Becoming too visible
by rozzy07
Summary: A sort of carry on from 'Becoming Invisible' but really just my need to PimptheLimp and batter the boys to come...!
1. Chapter 1

All usual disclaimers apply.

_So fingers got bored and honestly this wasn't meant to be a follow on from 'Becoming Invisible' as all I wanted to do was let off some pent up Limp-Sam-itude but this was the end result! It takes place after 'No Exit' in the SN timeline. Please be warned despite the slow build up I do intend to batter the boys good and proper here! Oh and yes the language can be pretty fruity at times too. Rozzy_

**Becoming too Visible**

**Chapter 1: Responsibility**

As they pulled up outside the dingy bar in the middle of a backwater road in Arkansas Sam couldn't help but grimace. Over the past year he had been in too many bars like this not to feel the tang of worry in his mouth. Especially with his acerbic big brother Dean in tow seemingly now days more ready to use his fists than talk his way out of trouble.

Dean for his part grinned wide at the sight of the decidedly shabby frontage. It was a welcome bolthole and the fact that his old buddy Ben Anderson waited inside with a sweet new job for them both to sink their teeth in was an added bonus. Hell it might even be a chance for his little brother to lose the doom and gloom expression on his face that he had been sporting all day long.

Dean voiced out his irritation at seeing the familiar frown on his brother's face, "Jesus could you look any more prissy? Come on dude loosen up why don't you. It's not every day we get to tackle a multiple infestation especially in a bad ass creepy haunted house. Just no holding hands if you get to scared Sammy boy!"

Pursing his lips in annoyance Sam deliberately bit back a sarcastic response, "Thought you said it was a building site? Some old postal sorting office going through a refurb into condos…"

"Still 'haunted' dude and with more than one pissed of dead postal worker to deal with according to Ben. Should be a blast."

When Sam dared to lock eyes with him in open question of disbelief he shook his head. "Look I owe Anderson big time. He needs help on this job so I'm not gonna say no."

"It still doesn't mean that we shouldn't check this out further ourselves, especially with more than one spirit involved."

Dean growled putting more anger in his voice than intended, "If you're not up to doing this one then you can park your butt back at the motel and I'll be back in a day or three. Makes no difference either way…like I said I owe the man."

Sam swallowed back his frustration at the threat of being sidelined again keeping his face blank, "Whatever Dean. I just wish we weren't going into this one so blind."

"As I said before Benny will have scoped it all out and with the three of us we should be able to manage getting rid of few bad tempered ghouls. Right?"

Sam reluctantly nodded his agreement and Dean turned to face him to reinforce a warning, "Look when you meet with Ben just try and keep your mouth shut. About everything."

"You afraid I'll let the dark family secret out again at what a freak you have to drag around with you," fired back Sam with more than a hint of frustration in his voice.

Ever since he had confessed all to Ellen at the roadhouse his brother had been royally pissed at him and the topic of his connection to the demon had been totally off the agenda.

Dean assessed his brother and knew were his thoughts were at and felt a pinch of guilt that he was still shutting him out. "All I'm saying is that the man has a sharp tongue, especially after a few beers so just stay under his firing line and don't give him a reason to get his teeth into you. The guy can be a fucking rotweiller at times. Got it?"

Sam shrugged his indifference fingering the edge of his cast as he kept his thoughts hidden thinking it was wise just to agree. Dean was still worryingly mercurial and after Jo's revelations about how her father died it was all he could do to keep things on an even keel without things imploding further.

As they walking into the bar Dean threw his brother a smirk as he drank in the smoky and decidedly testosterone charged atmosphere. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he clocked eyes with a particular attractive girl at the bar, "This should be a good night."

As the brothers approached the older hunter Anderson's head snapped upwards eyes dancing over the brothers before settling on the younger one with an amused expression. The kid towered over his friend and he couldn't hold back a smirk at Dean, "So this is Sam? Not quite what I was expecting that's for sure."

"Yeah I know, defies all the known laws of nature doesn't it? Little brothers should remain little," snapped back Dean with a small begrudging shrug of his shoulders.

When Anderson laughed just a little too loudly Dean's eyes danced over the array of empty beer bottles on the table and a half full bottle of Tequila and knew that his friend had a good head start on him.

Dean nudged his brother's shoulder, "Sam this is Ben Anderson, bad ass hunter of all the fugly things out there and with an unequalled appetite for loose women and gut rot tequila to match!"

"Thanks for the charming intro," hacked back Anderson still looking over at Sam with a judgmental expression as he muttered under his breath, "Pretty little thing ain't he…"

Sam glowered but sucked back a response pointedly ignoring the man waiting instead to see how his brother interacted with him to gauge him further. With Dean's warning to keep his mouth shut about 'everything' he sat silently down and watched with a curious eye as his brother swapped a broad smile of greeting with the older man.

The short stocky forty something man looked normal enough, dressed much like his brother and his pepper grey hair cut military style but Sam wasn't going to be taken in by first impressions. He'd been stung too many times recently to play all warm and friendly with strangers, especially other hunters.

Dean recalling how he had left him in the E.R. with a busted knee and blood loss on their last get together leant in and asked, "So how's the knee old man? Up to running through a disused Sorting office and all those stairs?"

Anderson chortled, "Feels pretty good right about now. Can honestly say I can't feel a damn thing."

"Yeah I bet," remarked Dean noting the alcohol induced flush to his friend's face and wished that his brother was seeing him on better terms as the man was in full blown 'lets get hammered' mode.

"Looks a lot like your old man," Anderson remarked bitingly swilling an almost empty bottle of beer in Sam's direction as he scrutinised the youngest Winchester with a critical eye.

Dean seeing his brother flinch at the comparison quickly pushed some cash into Sam's hand, "Get a round in. And don't forget the peanuts."

With a resigned shrug Sam knew that he was being sidelined to allow the two of them to catch up and he shuffled off to the bar. In fact he was glad of the break as already he could feel the tension rising between him and the older man. Anderson was all that Dean had described, macho excess at its worse, and he had as much in common with the man as he did with Walker.

As he left the older hunter's eyes tracked Sam with a frown before turning back to his brother, "Surprised you're still hauling him round with you. Last time we spoke you cussed so much about how much of a millstone he was around your neck I just thought you might have offloaded him by now."

Dean swallowed hard. It had been a difficult time when last he'd met up with Ben with things spinning out of control, namely himself, and his little brother had suffered the brunt of it all. Hell the cast on his arm still bore testament to the damage done.

Sighing he looked at Anderson and admitted, "Well I might have over exaggerated things a little bit back then so pay no attention to what I said. Its all good now…"

Anderson didn't take the hint and continued, "Yeah well I've heard you bitch enough times about the fact that the boy hated hunting to be more than a little puzzled is all. Wasn't that the reason your dad kicked him out and he stayed gone for all those years?"

Dean's eyes darkened at the reminder, "A lots happened since then and it's my responsibility now to keep him safe. He's still my idiot little brother at the end of the day."

"Responsibility huh?" remarked Ben sourly as he added tellingly, "Or burden perhaps, call it what you like it's dragging you down man. Anyone lately tell you that you look like shit man."

"Pot calling kettle black," snapped back Dean taking in the decidedly weatherworn appearance of the man, "Look you asked for my help, that's why I came. Just leave Sam out of the bitch fest you seem to be on right now."

Anderson sighed worry creasing his brow, "That's what's got me a little rattled here dude. When I asked you to help out on this gig I didn't think you'd be bringing baby brother along. What I don't need is some wet behind the ears pup screwing things up."

Dean kept his face neutral not wanting to recall the words he had used on his brother before coming into the bar, "I know I owe you man but understand this where I go so does my brother. Leaving Sammy behind is not up for negotiation."

Again Anderson laughed easily, "Okay man, don't get your panties in a bunch. Just make sure the kid knows the rules and does as he's told. I'm not picking up some rookies guts off the ground when things go hinkey."

"Yeah well don't you worry him falling on his butt, I trained the kid up remember?" growled back Dean as his eyes flickered over the bar to check on Sam wondering what was taking him so long to get the drinks.

They narrowed on seeing his brother in conversation with some man-mountain in leathers, long greasy hair and steroid induced muscled arms full of tattoos. Not the sort of company he expected Sam to be with mixing with. Ever.

Alarm bells ringing Dean instinctively went to intervene before trouble started but the huge biker suddenly let out a loud snort of laughter, clapped a meaty hand on Sam's shoulder and they both turned back to the bar as if long lost friends.

Letting out a small exhale of relief Dean fell back into his chair daring to let his heart beat easier again, not noticing the scrutiny he had been under from his old friend.

Anderson had watched with a sour expression as his friend had searched out his absent brother. Lifting a brow of surprise he saw the fear flicker momentarily across Dean's normally unreadable face, saw his knuckles clench and his teeth bare till he realised that his brother wasn't under threat and he could pretend all was right with the world again.

This was a different Dean Winchester he saw now, the cocksure over confident hunter he had worked with before submerged beneath an overwhelming concern to look after the youngest Winchester. It left him guarded, more restrained and he wasn't sure if he liked this new persona. Sullenly he frowned, wanting his friend to focus on the job tomorrow and not on protecting little brother's greenhorn behind.

Taking a long swig out of the tequila bottle he shoved it over to Dean and snarled, "Stop worrying about Sammy and get with the programme here dude. What we're dealing with is a real doozy of a haunting with numerous reported sightings and attacks, with the last one leaving the architect in the hospital for five days with a cracked skull. Whatever is in that building doesn't like the idea of it being turned into a prime development for yuppies that's for sure."

Swinging his attention back to his friend Dean slowly nodded his understanding. "So not a slam-dunk in the park. Have to watch our backs on this one."

Watching Dean absorb the implications of the dangers they all might meet up with Ben took another swig of beer to wash away the taste of the tequila before offering up sadly, "Sure wish we had your dad or Caleb along for the ride for this one, it would have made things a whole lot easier to get it done."

Dean's eyes sparkled at the thought, "Yeah it sure would have."

Struggling to keep his emotions in check he grimaced and bit his bottom lip as the loss hit deep again. When a shadow fell over him he managed to keep his emotions hidden when Sam returned to the table with the drinks. "Bout time dude. You watching them brew the stuff or something."

Sam pushed a bottle of beer into his brother's hand and flopped down in a chair besides him throwing a packet of peanuts on the table, "Just thought I'd give you guys some time to catch up is all."

Anderson snatched up his fresh beer and chugged a huge gulp down in one deep swallow before throwing a cheesy grin at the brothers, "Yeah well catch up time is over. Time for a little R & R is if you ask me."

Sam watched his brother clink his bottle with the older man's with obvious relish and knew that it was going to be a long night still trying to put aside his instant dislike of the older hunter.

A few hours later and still only nursing his second beer to the many that his brother and Anderson had knocked back Sam's watched his brother swagger over to the bar.

Turning his attention back to the man sitting opposite him, who had drunk enough now not to be even remotely likeable anymore, Sam dragged in a tired resigned breath. Poking his eye with a sharp stick would have been more fun than sitting with Mr Neanderthal he surmised.

All night long the grizzled hunter had been throwing the odd barbed comment his way but he had managed to bite his tongue every time. Being left alone with him now felt more than just a little uncomfortable and his hopes for his brother's early return were dashed when he saw him in heavy conversation with a busty red headed barmaid.

Sensing his unease the older man leant in, beer and tequila fumes wafting over Sam's face so that his top lip lifted in disgust as Ben slurred out, "Ya know its real funny seeing how yer brother is when he's round you all uptight and on edge. Dude can't seem to breathe easy."

Sam for his part tried to ignore the man's ramblings but the stinging words were leaving invisible marks cutting deep. Ben tried to straighten up and wagged a knowing finger over at him, "Seems like he can't be himself with you in tow. Why's that?"

Sam swallowed hard taking the man's drunken ramblings to heart and shot a concerned look over to his brother as he stood at the bar flirting with the redhead. Seeing for the first time in days the relaxed look on his brother's face as he leant into the woman he felt a stab of self-doubt eat away at him.

Perhaps what Anderson was saying was true but finding his voice he muttered a denial, "Dean's his own man, he does what he likes. I don't stop him from doing anything…."

"Yeah well seems to me that your sucking the life out of your brother like some giant leech," shot back Ben viciously as he eyed the youngest Winchester at the table as he leant back. "In all the years I've known him I've never seen him so uptight."

"It's been a hard year for him but you know that," growled out Sam eyes narrowing as he reassessed the hunter in front of him and not liking what he was seeing, "Look you clearly have a beef with me so spit it out man."

Anderson leaned even further back and looked at Sam grimly, "I knew your daddy well boy. Good man, damn fine hunter and as I heard it he washed his hands of you. Must have been a valid reason for him to do that, right?"

Fingers digging tight into his own bottle Sam felt a compulsion to smash it into the smug face in front of him and he tried to suck back the anger, "My relationship with my father is none of your goddam business."

Anderson smirked openly, "Funny what someone dying does to a person. Dean tells me you tried to turn into the devoted hunter overnight when John died. Like your trying to be the good son all of a sudden."

Sam looked away his mind swirling at hearing his brother's thoughts coming out of Anderson's mouth before he turned back to him with a hard stare, "You know nothing about anything old man."

Anderson laughed coldly adding as the beer made his tongue even more vicious, "I heard enough over the years. Anyways Johnny already had the perfect son with your brother …but you knew that right?"

Watching how the young man seemed to shrink down into his chair Anderson mistook it as a sign of defeat not seeing the dangerous glint in the youngest Winchester's eyes and he added in a warning whisper, "As I see it one day you might just end up getting your brother killed if all he has to do is worry about protecting your sorry ass."

Before Sam could counter the damning words Dean walked back to the table with a wide grin on his face only for it to vanish as he felt the bad vibes coming back up at him. Dumping the drinks on the table he sat down trying to judge the reason for the silence that greeted his return but neither his brother or his old friend seemed to be in the talking mood.

Looking at the unreadable look on his brother's face he pointedly asked, "You planning to have fun anytime soon kiddo?"

When Sam just shrugged not bothering with an answer Dean added tersely, "Jesus dude learn to lighten up why don't you. Its only a few beers…"

Ben cackled hard finishing off one beer to pick up the next all in the same beat, "That's what I just said. Killjoy brother of yours really knows how to destroy the mood, don't he?"

Dean scowled over at Sam again the affects of the alcohol making his tongue looser than normal and more caustic. "Like I see it you didn't mind mixing it up with those skanky girls a while back did you? What were their names – Candy and Shandy right? Had some fun then didn't you little brother?"

The colour rose on Sam's cheek at being reminded of his drunken encounter with the two scary girls with roving hands and equally foul mouths a few states back and he shook his head in denial, "Not like I intended for any of that to happen."

Dean chuckled and leant into Ben in a conspiratorial wink, "Remember I told you the idiot was lucky to get out the bar with his pants still on. Those girls were readying to eat him alive. Lucky for him he had me to bale him out at the end of the day. Again."

Ben sniggered and cast an eye back at Sam, "You always expecting big brother to protect your pretty boy ass? When we go on the job tomorrow don't expect me to play babysitting duties with you."

Sam glowered back anger bubbling fully to the surface that he had held back for too long. "I don't need anyone to watch my back, especially some burnt out pseudo macho hunter trying to drown his inadequacies down the end of a bottle."

Ben curled his lip at the insult but Sam wasn't finished, "As I recall Dean had to save your stupid ass that same night too…drove your car straight into a ditch I heard. Or where you too juiced to notice at the time?"

All Dean knew that with Sam's sharp use of language was that things got ugly too fast to stop what happened next as Ben clearly incensed at the verbal putdown staggered to a half stand to throw a meaty punch at his brother's head. A frighteningly quick Sam though struck first though to knock the stocky man off his feet with one devastating left hook.

As hard knuckles struck flesh and bone Anderson was lifted of his feet to land flat on his back with a hard crash groaning out in pain as the hit left him more than a little stunned. A small chorus of cheers went up from some of the other drinkers at the back of the bar enjoying the spectacle but none tried to intervene.

"Hey, hey, hey," spat out Dean as he hastily stepped in between the two as Sam stood to his full height face flushed in anger, eyes glinting a warning that he was about to take it further than one punch.

Putting out a restraining hand Dean pushed him back with a shove harder than intended and Sam was forced back a step, "What the hell has gotten in to you dude? Let it go. Now."

"The stupid bastard been goading me all night long," huffed out Sam locking eyes with his brother. "Seem like he can dish it out but the moron can't take it in return."

Dean surprised by the vehemence in his brother's words was left to wonder what happened between the two of them whilst he was at the bar. Sure Ben had been in a bitching mood all night long, taking the odd swipe at his brother but that was par for the course with the man. Somehow his warning to his brother from the start that Anderson's mouth was liable to run off with him after a few drinks had been forgotten.

Then all questions were left unspoken as Ben staggered back on to his feet cursing loudly as the blood dripped down his face. "Think the freaky shit broke my nose."

Dean turned to look at his friend and winced in sympathy at the damage clearly visible on his face before a smirk took over, "Well don't you look all the prettier for it you dumb ass idiot. What the hell were you thinking swinging at my brother like that?"

Ben laughed with a mouth full of crimson teeth whilst fingers tenderly feeling for any breaks as he eyed both brothers, "Thought you said the bitch hit like a girl…"

Dean pushed a napkin over to his bleeding friend and cocked an eyebrow, "What can I say old timer. He may look like some pansy geek but my little brother is still a Winchester through and through."

As Sam continued to glare daggers at him over the top of his brother's head and Ben grinned back maliciously at him before nodding over at his brother, "If you say so dude. If you say so."

"Well whatever it is you two have going on work through it. I don't intend to be piggy in the middle on the job tomorrow," snapped out Dean in annoyance. This was not the relaxing evening he had planned not with his brother doing his Hulk impression to leave his friend bleeding all over the place.

Ben shrugged as he sat back down, throwing Sam a scowl as he continued to dab at the blood trickling from his bruised nose and snuffled out, "I can work with most people even on a bad day as long as it gets the job done."

Sam glowered back at him but held his tongue, not wanting to make the evening any worse for his brother. Then the anger dissipated away as he watched Dean try to assess the damage to his friend's face and he felt a guilt wash over him. His brother clearly thought a lot of the man, he was after all someone he had trusted with his life time and time again and he had just punched his lights out.

Picking up his jacket Sam didn't want to upset Dean anymore and speaking to his brother's back said as calmly as he could, "I'm going back to the motel. Might give mighty mouth here some time to power down…"

Dean turned and gave him a brief calculating look to see if he could read him any better but his brother was shut off from him and he shrugged wearily, "Sure - if that's what you want."

Sam shrugged on his jacket and took a long steadying breath, the hair falling over eyes masking the hurt he felt. "Yeah it is."

"Well just don't expect me back anytime soon," indicated Dean with a nod of his head over to where the barmaid stood, before throwing him the car keys, "Not a scratch Sammy…."

Taking that as his cue that he really should leave Sam grunted his understanding and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he stepped out of the bar he drank in the cold night air just glad to be out of the smoky atmosphere and away from the older hunter inside it.

Knowing that he had let his brother down after all his warnings to ignore Anderson's mouth it still felt a release to get rid of some of the pent up anger. Flexing his bruised knuckles he grinned to himself admitting it had felt more than just good despite the look of mortification on Dean's face as he flattened the bastard.

As he drove in silence the couple of miles back to the motel he was left trying to wrap his thoughts about all that Anderson had said to him. Since their dad's death he had no idea where his brother's head was at times as the last person he seemed to want to talk to was him. The Andersons and Walkers of this world seemed to have more of a clue in of what his brother was thinking and feeling that he would ever be allowed to know.

As Sam pulled into the motel and his new home for the night he sat for a moment trying to get his thoughts together. He knew what he was experiencing was a mixture of jealousy and regret but it still hurt.

The last thing he wanted to do was go to Haskell tomorrow. What he really wanted was a chance out of this gig as it felt inherently wrong but knew it would be impossible to say this to Dean without the huge explosion of anger that would follow.

Loyalty was not a negotiable word with his brother and he held an allegiance to the older hunter that he wouldn't ignore.

The cold hard facts was that Anderson and his brother shared a history that he knew virtually nothing about and it left him feeling like a redundant third wheel on a two-wheeled carriage. It also brought back an unwanted memory that he had tried to excise, of feeling just like he had with his dad and brother before he left for Stanford. And he hated it.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

In the bright morning light Anderson's face showed the damage from the night before in clearer detail. His swollen nose, although not broken, felt like it should have been from the way it throbbed and his jaw felt decidedly tender too. That coupled with a raging hangover from hell made him feel more than decidedly delicate.

As he drew up to a stop outside the motel frontage he saw the youngest Winchester sitting alone on the edge of the Impala's hood and winced again knowing that he owed him an apology. After the tongue lashing from Dean last night he knew he had to try and put things right, no matter what he felt about the kid and all those whispers that had trickled down the hunters rumour mill about him.

Gingerly he walked his sore jaw from side to side and could acknowledge that the kid swung just like his old man, hard and mean. Dean's baby brother wasn't as soft as he looked and he had let the emotive features, long hair and apparent quiet air about the boy let him assume otherwise.

Wincing in memory at all the harsh words he had drunkenly mouthed off at the kid he knew he deserved the punch. Next time he told himself he'd fine a softer target to goad. Word sparring with a Winchester was one thing but having the crap beaten out of you was another, and he could hazard a guess that if Dean hadn't stepped in when he did that's exactly what his little brother would have done to him.

As he approached the impala he coughed out his presence and the shaggy mop of hair twisted around and green eyes followed to look coldly at him. Yep, definitely a Winchester acknowledged Anderson as he felt the stare bore through him without any hint of forgiveness. 'Damn Winchesters can hold a grudge to the extreme,' cursed Ben under his breath.

"Hey Sammy," he called out with a tight smile trying to make the first step in an act of contrition without falling on his ass again.

"Its Sam or Winchester. Take your pick but don't ever call me Sammy," spat back Sam in a soft but menacing drawl as drew to his full height, a good head and half taller than the older hunter. After Walker he wasn't going to play the trust game with another hunter not till they proved themselves to him to his satisfaction.

Ben watched how the boy suddenly loomed over him with a frown fighting down the urge to turn tail and run back to the nearest bar for something to steady the shake in his hand and his frazzled nerves. Finding his voice he confessed, "Look I shouldn't have said half the things I said last night."

Sam didn't answer just looked down at him trying to assess the truth of his statement and fidgeting under the stare Ben shrugged. "Dean must have told you what a complete ass I can be with a few slugs under my belt. Hell I was already half wasted before you even showed up so look what I said about your dad, about you, it was all just the stupid mutterings of a mean drunk."

Sam grunted and turned away in dismal but Ben tried harder, "Come on kid, at least for your brothers' sake try and meet me half way here. Dean's not about to walk away from this job and he wants you along."

Sam turned back and nodded slowly his eyes still flinty hard, "For my brother, Anderson, and only for him, do we pretend to play happy hunters because he wants to do this salt and burn. Me personally I could care less if you got your ass fried doing this on your lonesome."

He looked and sounded so much like his father that Ben blinked hard, "Okay then…. Glad we know where we stand with this one."

The waft of coffee coming his way turned Sam's head around to see his brother approach with two large Styrofoam cups in his hand. Silently Dean nodded over to Ben guessing that he had said his apology before he thrust a coffee into Sam's hand.

"We good here?" he asked in general to be met by his brother's slight shrug who seemed more interested in studying the lip of his coffee cup than speaking to his brother. Dean chased a quick looked over at Ben who smiled wanly back at him with a look that said 'I tried.'

Sam cautiously sniffed at his coffee before taking a sip of the bitter scalding liquid happy to keep the silence going. After last night he didn't trust himself not to make the situation worse so he walked over to the passenger side and got in, waiting for Dean to finish up chatting with his friend.

"You fit to drive?" asked Dean of pointedly noting Ben's decidedly unkempt appearance and in the unforgiving glare of golden sunshine his skin looked almost grey.

Ben chuckled fingering his nose before throwing a look over at the silent Sam, "Yeah I'm good, nothing a couple of Advil and shot of tequila won't fix."

Dean looked at him coolly noting the tremor in his hands and whispered a warning, "Dude if you're not up for this tell me now. From the look of you man you couldn't hit a barn door at ten yards never mind hit Casper square between the eyes."

"You worried about my 'inadequacies' as your little brother oh so fucking delicately put it last night too?"

"You tell me? You look like you should be in detox man and after the stunt you pulled last night trying to hit my brother what I am supposed to think. Are you letting things get out of control here Benny?"

"Hey I apologised to the kid and if it makes you any happier I'll stay off the juice until the job's finished. I admit I was stewed last night but since when has that ever stopped my game before?"

Dean stabbed a finger in his chest and hissed out, "Before we never had my brother along for the ride dude. I mean it man you'd better be on the ball with this one. No fucking screw ups to come and bite us in the ass later."

He had trusted Anderson implicitly to get the job sounded out before they turned up but if most of that was done via a bottle of tequila then Sam had been right to question this entire job. No way was he going to let his brother walk smack bang into a multiple haunting and not know exactly what they faced.

As if reading his thoughts Anderson laughed, "Jesus kid lighten up. Like I said I've done the research. As long as you and your brother stick to the plan its gonna be just fine."

Dean shook his head, "You and I are going to have go over the ground work again Benny. We're not stepping foot into that building till we do."

Snorting his disgust Ben went to walk back to his vehicle but Dean snaked out a hand and gripped his arm. "I mean it dude. Don't make me regret saying yes in helping you out."

Turning darkly around to match his hard stare Anderson top lipped curled tossing a nod over to the impala, "You worried about pretty boy getting his hair mussed up or something. Look like I said I've checked all the bases and we can do this job blindfold man. Since when did you stop trusting me to know how to get things done?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The feeling of weightlessness was unsettling as he was flung through the open doorway into the windowless room. A nanosecond later Dean felt himself smack against the far-side wall, body hitting brick and plaster with a sickening thud so that his lungs rebelled as in an almighty rush all the air was expelled out of him.

Before he could react further gravity took over and Dean found himself sagging in a loose heap to the ground the shotgun clattering on the stone floor from loose fingers desperate to keep the darkness at bay.

Forcing air back into his lungs despite the grating of busted ribs he gasped for breath as white noise hissed in his ears and every bone and muscle in his body screamed pain at him. Still from the blanket of white noise a familiar sound from a familiar voice could be distantly made out and he was roused back to consciousness.

"Sam?" gasped out Dean as his voice kicked back into action and his eyes refocused and darted frantically around the dimly lit room.

In the corner was Anderson, left leg buckled unnaturally under him, his upper torso bathed in crimson and Dean forced jelly legs into action and raced over to his side only to turn with a gasp of fear as the heavy metal door into the room swung suddenly shut with a loud clang, with the outside lock spinning to lock, effectively keeping them both prisoners within.

Dean's eyes widened in fear, the steel door a barrier from the corridor beyond where he had last spoken to his brother before telling him to check the next level on his own.

'God damn fucking stupid, stupid, stupid decision ever,' rebuked Dean to his inner self and angrily he turned his attention back to Anderson. Grabbing him by the collar dragging him back to his feet despite the man's grunt of pain as his busted leg beneath him buckled he growled out, "You stupid bastard. What did you do?"

_**TBC**_

_**P.S. let me know your thoughts as feedback seriously devoured!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Usual disclaimers about Supernatural and owning nothing but an over active imagination still hold true._

_Really I have been left just a little bit gobsmacked at the really supportive reviews for the opening of this story. My thanks to one and all. Lets just hope you like what happens next! Rozzy_

**Becoming too Visible **

**Chapter ****2. Neon bullseye**

Ben Anderson thought a busted knee hurt bad enough but the break in his leg felt a thousand times worse. Especially when forced to stand on it as a seriously riled Dean Winchester hauled him up demanding answers. Ben hopped on to his good leg hoping to take the pressure off his busted limb but moments later he was forced to bite back a cry of pain as he was slammed up against the wall. His broken collar bone screamed fresh pain at him as Dean's fingers dug into his shirt keeping pinned against the wall.

Hot angry eyes bored into him as the younger hunter spat out, "What the hell did you do? Who were you talking to back there? Answer me you bastard or I'm gonna start shooting your toes off one by one."

Ben shook his head in denial as Dean looked ready to kill him but still he couldn't get his mouth to coordinate with his brain and spit out the necessary words that might still the other man's hand.

A large echoing bang from outside the room vibrated through the walls to give him a moment of reprieve as Dean spun away from him and listened intently all too familiar with the sound. Gunfire was coming from above.

Dean couldn't keep the fear from rippling across his face as another loud bang soon followed and it made him whisper out his brother's name in alarm. Whatever had just tossed him and Anderson around like rag-dolls might now be after his brother and here he was stuck locked in this damn room all because he had trusted the older hunter.

From the moment they stepped into the building it had become more than apparent that Ben knew virtually nothing about the place and in his efforts to question him about his lack of honesty he had sent Sam to the floor above, out of the way so that he could get the truth out of his friend.

That in itself had to be dumbest move ever in the big brother world of major fuck ups, Dean could now admit to himself. What the hell had he been thinking letting Sam go off like that alone?

Throwing a dark look at the older hunter he made a grab for him again to shake some answers out of him when a scream, terror filled, echoed through the building. Horrified Dean spun back to the locked door and hollered out till his throat burned, "Sam? Sammy. Please brother answer me…… Sammy?"

In the locked room both men waited for a response but the only noise that could be heard was their own laboured breathing and thudding hearts. When Dean realised that Sam was not going to answer his calls he banged loudly on the door hoping that it might attract his brother's attention instead.

When that failed he spun back to the heavily injured Anderson. "You better pray my brother is alive old man or I'm slicing you open, wrapping your intestines around your stupid neck and strangling you with them."

Ben managed finally to get his mouth to work despite the crack to his head and a weak chuckle came out at the imagery, "Can't hurt any worse than I'm feeling right now dude. Might even be doing me a favour…."

A thought came to Dean and hurriedly he reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone to ring his brother only to find that he couldn't get a signal. Whatever had just messed with them must also be blocking his ability to call out he reasoned furiously.

"Fuck and double fuck," he growled out as he eyed the semi-conscious hunter and demanded, "You're phone any good."

Ben searched out his phone but it came out of his pocket in bits, clearly not liking the slam-dunking from wall to wall the poltergeist had taken to enjoying with his knew found plaything. In disgust he threw the parts onto the floor and cradled his woozy head in the crook of one arm fighting down the urge to vomit. "Goddam nothing is going right."

Dean found his hands were shaking when he reached down to pick up his shotgun off the stone floor and slipped in fresh cartridges into the empty chambers. Clicking it shut he threw a warning glance over at Anderson who had slipped back down onto the floor, head dipping down to his chest as he struggled to breathe through the pain of his battered skull, fractured leg and broken collar bone.

Dean though wasn't in any mood to let the older man's injuries stopping him from getting the answers he wanted, "You'd better start talking Anderson. Fast."

Lifting his head up he saw the deadly glare in Dean's eyes and couldn't blame him for it. None of this was supposed to be playing out like this but it had only been the one short phone call and a snifter of tequila, one lousy little drink to steady his nerves that had caught him out. After all it wasn't something he did this on a regular basis. Stitch up a friend like this.

Foolishly he forgotten just how silently the man could move at times and he hadn't realised that Dean was behind him listening in till he turned around to see the dark fury on his face. Instantly he knew that he had seen and heard too much.

Then the damn poltergeist had stepped in, thrown them around like sacks of flour and now here he was battered and broken locked in a room with a man who seriously wanted to do him further harm.

"I said speak you bastard."

Ben even with a cracked skull could still think fast and tried to deflect Dean from his threatened rampage, "Hey listen you sent your brother to the floor above right? That scream sounded like it came up through the floor so it couldn't have been him. Maybe he's is okay and is hauling his ass back down to save our sorry butts as we speak?"

Blinking furiously seriously doubting anything that came out of the man's mouth Dean still felt a flicker of hope ignite inside of him. Going back to the metal door he pounded again. "Sam. Sammy. Hurry up with the goddam rescue little brother why don't you?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The ground crunched under foot from loose cement dust, carpentry wood and broken plaster chips. Stacks of building materials littered the large open floor space, some stacked on small wooden pallets and tools were left abandoned on the ground till work resumed in the morning.

The natural light was failing as the sun started to set and he used his torch to point the way ahead a little clearer through the shadow filled floor space. The last thing he needed was to go ass over tip especially when there was freaking huge hole in the middle of the floor space where the new elevator shaft was being constructed. Three floors to the bottom would definitely cause more than a little bruising to the butt Sam chuckled nervously to himself and cautiously he picked his way forwards.

Then that all too familiar experience of an icy gust of wind wrapped around him chilling his spine, touching his skin frigid, and he couldn't help but gasp out loud at the contact.

Spinning around the torch threw light on a figure coalescing from a thick grey mist and in open fascination Sam watched as the spirit flickered into a semi-corporeal form before him.

Every instinct in him demanded that he should call out for his brother but the fact was that Dean was down a floor below hunting down his own Casper. 'Suck it up Sammy,' he told himself fiercely as he pointed his gun at the semi formed entity. 'Not as if this isn't the first spook you've faced on your own before,'

Hands steady with gun aimed Sam noted the attire of the figure, grey flannel trousers, white striped shirt and braces and from the greased back hair and small moustache he judged him to be from the early 1930's no later.

The spirit as if aware of his scrutiny suddenly made a move forwards and Sam didn't hang around to swap names and fired a round into its grey form. He exhaled loudly in relief as the apparition seemingly turned in on itself and vaporised into nothing.

With the ghostly implosion the air hissed around Sam as if super charged with electricity bringing with it the stench of ozone to burn his nostrils. Coughing loudly he tried to drag in a lung full of breathable air only to gasp in disbelief as just a few yards in front of the grey mist reappeared and took human form again.

Black coal eyes locked with his and a smirk lifted the dead man's bloodless lips as he pointed a knowing finger at Sam and hissed out, "Lets play 'it' boy…"

"Sonofabitch," whispered Sam still taken by surprise at just how fast it had reformed and started in a chase after it as it slipped away from him. Racing forwards he zigzagged around the stacks of building pallets trying to keep the spirit in sight torchlight pointing the safest way forwards.

Reaching for his cell he knew Dean needed to be told of this encounter but could only curse out loud on discovering there was no signal. Eyes momentarily distracted as he looked despairingly at his useless phone he rounded one large wooden pallet to almost run smack into the grey figure. Only instinct borne out of years of training stopped him literally dead in his tracks to fire another round into it.

This time the ghost had the good grace to disappear and remain gone and Sam huffed out a deep sigh of relief. It really was time to get back to his brother and regroup as this whole job was going pear-shaped way too fast.

Sam pushed aside his frustration with his brother's decision making processes and was about to make his way back to the stairwell when a scream, agonisingly real came up from below, through the open floor to the left of him. The shriek sounded too human to ignore and his first thought was of his brother.

Desperately he called out his name as he reached the edge of the open shaft and shone his torch down but what he saw made his stomach clench and true fear set hard on his features. "Oh my god," he whispered out in a soft voice of disbelief.

A man half stood three floors below a truly horrifying sight. The fair-haired security guard's back had been punctured with a large metal pipe that kept his upper torso semi upright protruding up through his chest wall. Blood bubbled up around the pipe like a sputtering geyser, spilling over his uniform in a dark rush as his mouth worked wordlessly his shock.

As Sam's torch swept over him tear filled eyes looked up at the source of light from the above begging for help. "Please … help me."

"Hang on," hollered back Sam readying to help the man. "I'm coming down."

"No. Please…. tell her, my Molly that her daddy is real sorry. Tell her…"

Nodding his agreement Sam blinked away his tears realising it was too late to do anything but listen and dared too ask, "Sir, what happened?"

"I forget…present. I saw him… _It_….. tricked me," warned the guard as he shook his head. Eyes locked tellingly with Sam as he tried to say something else but the blood gurgled its way up his throat silencing any further words as he started to choke to death.

Sam whispered a prayer under his breath as the security guard gave up his struggle for life, watching it literally pour out of him and leave his eyes in a matter of seconds. Seconds in which he could do nothing but watch a good man die and the guilt sat heavily on his shoulders.

Trying desperately to work out what had happened Sam swung the torchlight around the dead man for clues. On the floor was a small package, prettily wrapped in ribbons tainted by a glossy coating of blood. 'Molly's present,' thought Sam and felt his throat tighten in grief for her loss remembering still just how much it hurt inside to think of his own dad's passing.

A door squeaking on rusty hinges caught his ear and the torch swung round to highlight it swinging into open air from the floor below. Swallowing back bile he realised that man had run straight out onto what he had assumed to be solid ground before falling to impale his body on to a thick metal pipe on the ground floor below.

Wiping a hand across his dry mouth he stepped away shakily from the edge of the hole, the need to get back to his brother suddenly overwhelming.

All he knew was that this shouldn't have happened. The building was supposed to have been deserted with Anderson's telling promise that he had sorted out the guards.

Hissing out his frustration he knew should have trusted his own instincts and pulled Dean away from this mess the first time he met up with that whacked out hunter.

As he started in a sprint back to the stairwell fear caught at him. Fear that if Anderson had failed at this what else might he have overlooked? Cursing his readiness to agree to his brother's wishes he knew that they should have never have split up as anything could have happened since then.

As worry tore at him he failed to notice the dip in temperature again but what did attract his attention was a distracting flicker at the edge of his vision that made him intuitively duck down. Where his head had just been a series of long metal nails pierced the near wall throwing up a cloud of plaster dust on impact.

"Shit," spat out Sam as he twisted around eyes wide in alarm at seeing a heavy-duty pneumatic nail driver pointed in his direction by invisible hands.

Instinctively Sam raised his plastered arm to cover his head before he heard the thunk-thunk-thunk as another round of eight inch nails was fired off and he tried desperately to out run the impact. The nails found flesh though, working their way through the cast and his unprotected side like a hot knife through butter.

Stifling back an agonised scream as his arm and side ignited in a fiery throb Sam knew he couldn't afford to stop and managed to keep on running until he could squeeze behind a large pallet of cement sacks for protection. Even then the thuds of further nails being fired continued drilling into the pallet of cement sacks so that a chalky cloud flew up in the air and he struggled to breathe.

Fighting back against the agony the movement cost him Sam looked down at his arm and blanched at the sight. The once pristine white cast was growing dark red stains around the five nails that punctured the top of his forearm and as he turned his arm over he paled at seeing their sharp points in a line sticking out the other side.

'Shish kebab Winchester,' he thought sourly as his left hand gingerly fingered the slashes in his side. The fact that the wounds hurt like crazy as he tried assess the damage didn't stop his probing.

Hisses of pain slipped between clenched teeth as his fingers counted out four scoring wounds that ran from the side of his lower right ribcage down to his waist. The metal spears had torn long gouges through his side but Sam let out a shaky breath of relief thankful that the nails had gone through flesh and nothing else.

Sam tried to put aside the pain and wiped his sticky hand down his jean leg taking in long steadying breaths. Postal ghost wasn't playing nicely he thought sourly and he realised just how desperate and crazy he had been to go along into Haunted Central so ill prepared just in order to keep the peace with his brother.

Sam could honestly say that power tooled enhanced spirits would never be his idea of fun as he returned his attention back to his ruined arm. As the plaster-cast grew darker in colour and heavier under the weight of his own blood he realised bitterly that he would need a new one and could only guess how pleased Dean would be at that piece of news.

Another trip to hospital for accident prone Sammy Winchester with his verbally caustic brother riding his butt all the way. What fun that would be, especially imaging the outlandish story Dean would weave to explain away the eight inch nail wounds littering his already broken arm.

Still new plaster or not the nails needed to be removed and he tried to push the nearest one up from the underside of his arm with the butt of his gun. The intense pain as he slowly pushed against the nail made him curse out an impressive list of expletives that would have made his brother proud.

As he pressed more forcibly the handle now coated crimson slipped and slid with a sharp jerk against the metal pin moving it laterally instead of vertically. Biting hard on his bottom lip Sam shut tight his eyes desperate to just breathe again as pain shot viciously up his arm. Worse though was the fact that the nail remained sickeningly stuck in place and he knew he wasn't up to trying that particular party trick anytime soon.

"Okay," Sam realised with a grimace cradling his arm gingerly to his waist feeling the prick of the nails points through the cloth of his shirt, 'This is a job for big brother and a pair of industrial sized pliers."

Hauling himself to back onto his feet he knew he had to take the risk of running in the open again as the sooner he got back to Dean the sooner the sooner they could haul ass. Checking his magazine clip for bullets he took in a long steady breath before getting ready for his flight back to his brother.

Anderson and his stupid poltergeists he decided were welcome to each other because right about now he was too pissed off to care who nixed who first.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Ben eased his leg out to a more comfortable position and knew this was the calm before the storm. For the last few minutes Dean had scoured the entire room looking for a way out but the walls were too solid to kick a hole in and the metal door remained firmly shut. They were locked in tight and it was slowly driving Dean crazy.

The silence from outside was overwhelming and Anderson could guess at the cause but held his tongue aware of what Dean would do if he knew the truth. Instead he watched with a wary expression on his face as Dean prowled the floor space like a caged animal his thoughts running wild at what might have happened to his brother.

Seeing the feral glint in his eyes Anderson felt a sliver of dread run up his spine. He had gambled he could keep his friend at arms length if things got out of hand but Dean was readying to go another round with him and in his current state he was no match for the man.

Dean as if sensing his discomfort squatted down in front of Anderson and jabbed him hard in the shoulder not caring about the broken collar bone, "I want answers. You had absolutely no clue what was in here waiting for us, did you? Someone set you up with this gig and you were too drunk to do your own leg work."

Grunting against his discomfort Anderson shook his head in denial, "Told you I dug this one up all myself. Maybe I should have done a little more back ground checking first…"

Dean hissed his annoyance not liking the fact that he had been lied to and that his friend wanted to continue the misdirection. "I'll bust the other leg for you if you dare spin me another line like that old man? Who were you on the phone too? You said you'd delivered a package. What was it?"

Anderson laughed weakly unable to meet his stare, "It was just an old army buddy, no one you know. I promised to get something for him that's all."

"Another lie. I can read you man, I saw how you almost pissed you pants when you realised that I had overheard your little chat. You've been on edge all day long and I can still smell the fear rolling off you."

"Hey I know I've dropped the ball with this one dude but I thought it was just a few mean spirited dead employees nothing more."

Dean smacked his head with an open palm, "Lying sonofabitch, you wanted me here for a reason and I want to know why. What the hell was in that package. Something a little bit this side of being very naughty?"

Ben tried to shake his head again in denial. "Man it's not like that. Not what you're thinking at all…"

"Tell me what I'm thinking then as my gut is telling me that you've been playing me for a fool right from the get go." Dean studied him carefully letting his hand clamp in warning on the broken leg of his old friend, "You've been off your game ever since you clapped eyes on my brother. Down right nervous in fact. Tell me the truth you bastard. Now."

Anderson sucked in a desperate breath as Dean pushed hard on to his broken leg, face frighteningly devoid of any compassion and he couldn't help but holler out his agony. Panting hard he confessed, "It's about what your dad would want me to do."

"How the hell would you know what my dad wanted? You weren't with him before he died."

"I know that he didn't _trust_ his own boy, your little brother. And the talk out there backs him up."

"What talk?" demanded Dean his mind screaming a loud warning that he should have tried harder to keep Sam away from fellow hunters. What he had never guessed was that he would have had to protect his brother from his friends too.

"Don't play ignorant man, I know about the demons and their links to those kids with certain abilities. Freaks like your brother." Anderson made no apologies for the look of disgust he threw at Dean and dared to run further off the mouth. "You can't keep pretending that something bad isn't happening here but your daddy certainly knew the truth didn't he?"

Dean sat back face draining of all colour. If Anderson knew the secret about his brother then there could be a whole army of other seriously whacked hunters out there putting Sammy in their firing sights.

"You're insane. You best watch your mouth about what you say about my brother or my dad. None of its true and if you believe some of those paranoid idiots out there then you're as stupid as they are."

"You can't keep your head buried in the sand here Dean. It'll end up getting you hurt or worse."

Snorting out his disgust Dean shoved the man hard back against the wall. "You best stay the hell away from my brother or so help me I will not hesitate to ventilate you."

"Boy you can't run from this. Others like us want the truth too."

Seeing now the reason why Anderson had lured him onto this hunt Dean spat out bluntly, "You never wanted Sam to come to Haskell did you? You wanted to separate us. Get me out of the way right?"

Anderson looked away from the brutal stare. "It was never part of the plan for the kid to come along but I knew from the moment you walked into the bar that you wouldn't leave him on his lonesome. Big brother protector mode was in full overdrive man. Jesus if the boy had sneezed you'd had been at his side with a hanky in a heartbeat."

Ignoring the last comment Dean's mind was working furiously through all the angles and not liking the direction it was going and he was forced to ask, "So you had to change your plans. Was that what that call was all about. Was that package supposed to be my brother?"

"All we wanted was a chance to talk with the kid without things getting too ugly."

Anderson's words ended abruptly as Dean grabbed him hard on the shoulder and broken bones grated against each other forcing out a pitiful whimper. Dean ignored the noise and demanded, "We? Best tell me who you've been mixing it up with Anderson? Who else wants a private chat with my brother?"

Swallowing hard Anderson knew that the time for lies had ended, "Murdoch, Adrian Murdoch and his cousin Gil."

Ben flinched as Dean pulled his handgun from his waistband and raised it to his forehead and knew that it was no idle threat. "Look man if it was anyone else but your brother you'd have done the same."

Dean snarled and he pistol whipped Anderson's face so that his head whipped back to strike hard against the wall. "You stupid moron. You team up with those psychopathic rodeo queens against me, against my brother? Who the hell are you to tell me what has to be done?"

"Fuck you," screamed back Anderson rubbing the back of his scalp to feel the sting of a fresh cut, "This is war man. That Harvelle bitch told you that already and now you need to pick the right side."

Pushing the muzzle of his gun hard against Anderson's temple he whispered, "I'll give you a goddam war you bastard if harm comes to my brother from those Hicksville retards. Now you best tell me everything or so help me I'm going to turn your tequila pickled brain matter into pink jello."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam lurched sideways as a bag of cement flung through the air exploded against the wall. Coughing through the cloud of dust he managed to reach the stairs entrance his instincts screaming at him that the spirit was too close by for comfort to ease up.

As his fingers reached the door handle he felt a powerful force grab at his shoulders to spin him around and he in return fired blindly at the unseen spirit. The gun's retort echoed out loudly and the heavy weight on his shoulder lifted instantaneously.

As he squinted through the cloud of cement dust no unearthly form tried to take shape and taking that as his cue to turn tail and run he spun back around and flung open the door to the stairwell. Despite the pain in his side and arm he took the steps two at a time to breathlessly reach the next level down to where he hoped his brother still waited for him.

Sam drew to a halt battling against the fatigue draining the energy from his body and tried to draw in steadying breaths before having to face the critical eye of his brother again. After two long minutes he reached for the door handle but a strangled cry from above made him instinctively look up.

Sam's face fell open in shock as the body of man came hurtling down the stairwell shaft to come to an abrupt stop just yards from him his neck snapping sickeningly with the fall.

A thick loop of electrical wire was wrapped around his neck attached in a long taut line to something on the floor above and Sam gasped in horror as he watched the body twitch an unnatural dance.

Words deserted him and he stared stunned at the dead man, daring at first to believe that it was just an apparition, that the poltergeist was playing mind games with him, but as the body twitched and soiled itself Sam was left in no doubt that it was real.

Sam shivered at realising that whatever had just played shish kebab with him had just found a fresh victim and now he had another dead body to add to the count.

Tearing his eyes away from the grisly scene Sam was forced again to ask himself just what the hell had Anderson got them into here? Who was this dead guy and what had he been doing in the building? He certainly wasn't security or a builder judging from the designer jeans and fancy cowboy boots he sported. Something deep down shouted 'hunter' at him and he didn't like that idea one little bit.

As he pulled open the door with bloody fingers Sam knew only one thing for certain and that was he was going to drag his brother out this cursed building, even if he had to club him over the head and throw him over his shoulder caveman style.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean could hardly believe his ears. The man he would have sworn to have loyally defended his family with his dying breath had betrayed them totally. The urge to put a bullet in his head was strong but he knew that he might have to use him as a bargaining chip with the crazy Murdoch tag-team of Neanderthals later so he held off. For now.

If there was one thing he was sure of now was that was if he didn't get out of this cell sooner rather than later then his role of big brother could end pretty damn fast if those bastards got their hands on Sam.

As he saw it his little brother was in too much danger not to feel down right scared for him right now, and it was all because he had been blind enough to trust a man he thought he could call friend.

Securing a defeated looking Anderson wrists high above his head against a metal pipe Dean tugged on the knot good and hard satisfied when the man grunted out at the discomfort. 'Broken collarbone must be hurting like a bitch,' thought Dean with a smirk, tugging again on the ropes for extra measure.

Stripped of any chance to escape the older hunt glared balefully up at Dean. "I know he's your brother but damn it Dean the boy is gonna get you killed. He's marked and others see that now. Hell it's like someone has painted a demonic neon bullseye on his back for all to see."

"Shut your cakehole or I'll cut out your traitorous tongue," shouted back Dean angrily his voice echoing around the room and beyond.

As the words died on his lips Dean stiffened and warily stood up straight frowning as the air he expelled curled into a soft puff of white. Looking around the room for any unexpected visitors he saw only the four bare walls but as he turned back to Anderson he could see the condensation on the metal pipe starting to bead into little pearls of ice.

Raising his shotgun in readiness he ignored the sting of the cold biting through his jacket and shirt and tried to keep his fingers tight on the trigger.

The unexpected banging on the door made him physically jump and he swallowed back his panic gun aimed in expectation. A voice, the most welcome sound he had ever heard, called out his name. "Hey Dean you in there?"

"Sam?" laughed out Dean in relief. "Open the door you moron. I think Casper is coming back for a return visit."

"Its jammed shut," huffed back Sam as he struggled to turn the wheel one handed and tried to lean his weight into the metal wheel but still it didn't budge.

Dean masking his relief that his worse fears hadn't been made true and snidely asked, "What the hell took you so freaking long? I was all set to send up smoke signals Tonto."

"Had my hands a little full dude while you've been sitting on your ass twiddling your thumbs." grunted back Sam irritably. "Is motor mouth with you too?"

"Yeah but he ain't up to saying much right now," Dean shot the man a warning look and whispered. "You keep your mouth shut to Sam about anything to do with your whacked out demon ideas. Clear?"

Mutely Anderson nodded his understanding and Dean turned back to the door that kept him separated from his brother. "What the hell has been going on out there? I heard the gun shots and someone scream? Or was that you just have a girly moment on seeing your ugly mug in a mirror?"

"Funny ha ha! Yeah well that bitch of a ghost doesn't play nice at all and has a bit of a power tool fetish going on. We're two bodies down Dean…."

"Two? Jesus I thought the place was empty. Who where they?"

"One was a security guard about forty and the other was some dark haired dude with a long ponytail about your age I guess. Fancy cowboy boots and all."

"Gil Murdoch," whispered Dean in alarm recognising the description of the hunter instantly. He twisted round and saw the same recognition reflected in Anderson's frightened eyes.

Grabbing him by the chin he growled out, "You knew they were here all this time, waiting to snatch my brother, even with a bunch of ghosts wanting to play patter-cake with our heads."

Shivering visibly now Anderson confessed, "They got here first, said they'd clear the place of any unfriendlies. I thought there'd be no danger. They'd said they would talk to your brother and then everything would be sorted. No damage done."

"Talk to my brother? Are you plumb crazy? Those freaks can't even string two syllables together. Hell even grunting is near the high end of their vocabulary skills that coupled with their ability to use their fists."

Dean went to smack him again at the danger he had put his brother in but Sam's voice drew him back to the door. "Hey man this thing just isn't going to budge. I'm going to find something to lever it open. I think I saw crowbar near the stairs."

"Yeah well hurry up and make with the stupid rescue little brother. Its like a freaking icebox in here now and I can't feel my butt any more never mind my fingers and toes," snapped out Dean a little harsher than intended as the fear that his brother was still out there unprotected ate constantly away at him.

"You worried about your nuts turning blue big brother? I hear frostbite isn't just reserved for fingers or toes. Other extremities can also be affected," called Sam darkly through the door a snigger in his voice.

"Sammy just get this door open or I'll so kick your skinny butt later."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam drew in a steadying lungful of air before standing up straight again ignoring the sharps stabs of pain from his side and arm. Damn stupid older brother was never appreciative of his rescue efforts it seemed he smiled wanly to himself.

Pushing off against the door he hissed out loud as his side and arm rebelled and he sucked in a desperate breath. The sooner he got this stupid door open the better he realised not sure just how much longer he could keep the pain management under control as his battered body threatened rebellion.

In small loping run he retraced his steps back to where he thought he had seen the large crowbar thankful that at least on this floor dim overhead lighting lit the way.

Frowning he drew to a halt by the stairwell eyes searching desperately for the tool as he could have sworn that he had almost fallen over it in his exit from the stairwell earlier. Now though it seemed to have disappeared and with it his chance to prise the door keeping his brother imprisoned open.

"Great, just freaking great," he muttered out loud. "Dean is going to have a really hissy fit if I don't get his frozen ass out any time soon."

His eyes scanned down the long corridor for any other tool that he could use as leverage but unlike the floor above very few work tools had been left behind. As his frustration took hold he kicked at a clump of wood on the ground and it clattered down the empty corridor. The move tore at his side and he whimpered out loud and he pressed his hand to his side feeling the blood seeping freely through his fingers again.

"Can this day get any crappier?" he demanded and knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say as a blast of icy air rushing over him confirmed that it could.

"Sure it can boy," giggled out a familiar voice in his ear and as he spun round he saw the grey ghost crowbar in hand swinging hard towards his head.

Sam would swear later that he could actually hear his skull vibrate out loud as the metal struck bone before everything went dark.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"About bloody time you idiot," smiled Dean broadly in relief as the door swung open only to be blinded as a flashlight shone in his face. "Hey I know your glad to see my pretty face again but cut it out why don't you little brother. I can't see a thing."

Dean blocked the light with an out turned hand but froze as a cocking of a gun could be distinctly heard and a deep drawl in the doorway sent him spiralling back down to earth with a thud again. "Long time no see Winchester."

"Not long enough Murdoch. Not long enough."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

TBC 

_Feedback as always inspires me to write faster!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Usual disclaimers apply._

_Sorry that I've not had a chance to say my thanks for all those really supportive reviews on the last chapter. I promise to get back to you all one and all when RL stops playing silly buggers with my schedule! Be warned blood and torture to come! Rozzy_

**Becoming too visible **

**Chapter 3: Bad mojo**

The sensation of being pulled over rough ground brought Sam back to semi consciousness. From his prone position he tried to move his head off the floor and focus on what tugged at him but his head felt like a tonne weight and his eyes refused to cooperate.

All he managed was to groan out loud as pain radiated through his body as he was dragged over the concrete floor.

"Dean?" he managed to whisper out a moment later despite the stabbing white-hot needles of pain fizzing in his skull.

Wondering why his brother wasn't trying to put a stop to the world of hurt he was in right now he tried to bring his thought processes back online again. Then in fearful clarity he remembered that it was he that was supposed to be saving his brother not the other way round and the panic beat hard in his chest again.

Willing his eyes to open Sam hissed through the disorientation of travelling flat on his back with the overhead lights flickering passing by in a blur, whilst the sensation of ice-cold bony fingers wrapped around his ankle screamed fresh agony as his skin burned under the touch.

Gulping back a cry of alarm he realised that it was the less than friendly ghost of before that had hold of him and he tried kicking his way out of his grip to no effect, while with his good arm he tried to latch onto something solid to pull against.

Whipping a look back over his shoulders the grey spirit smiled in appreciation that Sam was awake again and winked sickeningly down at him, "You ready to play some more young un?"

Sam trying to ignore the agony of the spirit's dead finger on his skin, the pounding in his skull and the throb of his broken arm he managed to growl out, "Let me go you sadistic little shit."

"Now were would be the fun in that, eh?" Black eyes glittered brightly as he eyed Sam's bloodied face, "You bleed such a pretty red don't you know. I surely do like playing with you."

Sam paled but continued to twist against the ghost's frighteningly strong grip on his ankle as he was taken further down the corridor and away from his brother.

"Wriggly little critter ain't you?" hissed the grey ghost letting go of his leg only to reach down and snatch at his collar. Sam found himself yanked to his feet in one clean lift and then was sent airborne by the ghosts inhuman strength. "Lets see how well you can fly boy."

**o0o0o0o0o**

The large blond hunter outfitted in jeans and highly polished black cowboy boots with flashy gold tips was pure redneck from the head down. Like his cousin he sported his hair long, the thinning locks held back in a loose scraggy ponytail.

As icy grey eyes took stock of the situation Murdoch raised an eyebrow in surprise noting Anderson's prone form tied to the pipe and guessed that Dean must have worked out their agenda.

His voice a low drawl he asked, "So your little love fest with Benny all over with now is it Winchester? Or you just playing kinky?"

"The scumbag is lucky I didn't waste him," scowled back Dean inching slowly away from the door and the pointed gun before adding darkly, "Might still happen."

As Dean looked at the man in front of him whose gun was aimed squarely at his chest he couldn't keep the sneer off his face. A difference of opinion had passed between them two years back and he knew Murdoch had no fondness for him now. A broken and jaw and nose would do it every time.

Adrian Murdoch for his part glared over at Dean recalling just how painful it had been to suck only liquids through his wired jaw until it healed and itched to pull the trigger. He dug down deep to find the necessary control as he knew Dean might still be of use to him in getting to his brother and he had worked too damn hard to put this all together to screw things up now just for the sake of revenge. That could come later.

Dean stood still, his shotgun loose at his side projecting an air of indifference whilst his mind worked furiously on all the angles. His brother should have been back by now, but him walking back into this trap was as much of a problem as the pesky ghost playing pattercake with them and he silently prayed that his little brother had enough spidey senses left to know the danger he was in. Fanatics like Murdoch were just too ornery to trust not to do their worst just because they could.

Cocking his head in a cheeky grin he teased the man noticing the slightly bent path his nose now took, "You sure know how to scare off the gals even more with that mighty ugly look you have going on now."

Adrian Murdoch flashed a row full of perfect white teeth appreciating the man's boldness and Dean was instantly reminded of a barracuda and his whole body tensed afresh. This man was gunning for his brother and he knew he had to be stopped by any means necessary.

The two hunters eyed each other and Murdoch was inwardly thankful that he had the upper hand this time round, "Why don't you put the gun slowly down and kick it over to me."

Dean took a moment before complying but knew it would be foolish not to agree and placed the gun on the floor nudging it gently over to older hunter with his foot.

Anderson knowing just how dangerous Dean was quickly chimed in as he watched the shotgun skid across the floor, "Watch him Murdoch, he's got my revolver and his own still on him."

Murdoch tutted softly gun still aimed purposely at Dean, "Those also Winchester."

Dean snuck a look at his former friend and wished he had shot him when he had the chance. Unable to keep his disgust hidden he placed the additional weapons on the floor and was forced to take a few steps back as Murdoch waved him away. Eyes stayed locked on him the whole time as Murdoch kicked the guns to the far corner of the room.

Anderson threw a weak grin up at his would be rescuer. "Sure is good to see you man."

"Your lucky I kept my wits about me, unlike you who couldn't keep your mouth shut as planned," snapped back Murdoch in condemnation as he sliced through the ropes that kept the older man tied to the pipe.

Shuddering at the release Anderson quickly snapped back, "He heard our phone call man. Didn't take him long to put it all together. His daddy trained him well."

Dean stiffened at the reference to his father but he was more concerned at his brother's failure to return and he spat out at Murdoch, "Where the hell is Sam?"

"Now see Winchester that's exactly what I'd like to know. Where is that freak of a brother of yours that you've been trying to hide away?" Murdoch looked at him humourlessly, putting the switchblade in his back jean pocket all the while keeping the cocked gun pointed dangerously at him with the other.

Anderson piped up, "The kid was here Adrian. Tried to get the door open then went off to find something to jimmy it open. You didn't see him? Could have only been five minutes ago max."

"Door spun open easily enough when I tried it," drawled out Murdoch smiling dangerously over at Dean. "Perhaps his brother ran chicken when our ghost made himself known…"

"No way man he wouldn't leave Dean behind. That damn poltergeist froze the lock or something," offered up Anderson breathlessly his injuries starting to overwhelm him.

"Yeah by the way bang up job you guys did in getting rid of the freaky spooks," snarked back Dean eyes locked on the blond man ready for any chance to take him down.

Murdoch smiled wide again shaking his head, "Did your old friend Ben say that was part of the plan? Come on Dean I thought you brighter than that. I needed you distracted and having a demented pissed off ghost around was the perfect way to do that."

Anderson sucked in air noisily at realising that he had been played, just like he had played Dean, "You said you'd clean the place out. Goddamit I walked in blind and look what happened."

Looking over the bloodied and broken hunter Murdoch grinned viciously, "You think I'd let you in on the whole plan Anderson. Hell you were willing to stitch up one of your best friends, not exactly a trustworthy act dude. You were just the necessary tool to get the freak here. Nothing more."

Sputtering out his outrage Ben blurted out, "Yeah well your lies has cost you more than you know you fucking moron as the kid said that your cousin was hanged by the thing you let loose on us."

Murdoch visibly flinched and his eyes narrowed at the news but whatever sense of familial loss he felt he still kept his control, not taking his eyes off Dean and kept his gun steady. "Gil wasn't supposed to come in till I gave him the signal. The crazy idiot should have should have kept with the programme and stayed in the van."

"Inbreeding sure left your cousin your side of moronic didn't it?" spat out Dean viciously, "Poor guy never was the brightest spark, then again neither are you."

"Yeah well I'm smart enough to be holding a gun to your stupid head Winchester. And I was smart enough to cast a binding spell over our little ghost friend," warned Murdoch

Dean's sucked in a breath in disbelief at the callousness of the man, "You're one sick puppy aren't you? Was any of this really worth your cousin getting hung for? What the hell happened to family being everything?"

Waving his gun dangerously Murdoch reacted to the accusation, "Yeah well Gil should have stayed put like I told him too but I guess he was too fucking eager to get started on your little brother. The freak sure has a lot to answer for."

"Excuse me if I don't feel anything but thanks for your little ghost getting to Gil before he got to my brother. "

"You won't be saying your thanks if old Saunder's spirit latches on to little brother believe me. I'm the only one safe from the monster. Lucky me eh?" snarled back Murdoch as he fingered guilty the charm at his neck that kept him protected but at the cost of cousin's life.

"God man what the hell have you been playing with here?" demanded Anderson, fear settling hard in the pit of his stomach. "You know screwing around with dark spirits never ends well. Just who the hell is this Saunders creature you've let loose?"

"If you'd done your homework old man instead drowning your weak pathetic ass in a bottle of tequila you would have known that Saunders was a mean sonofabitch. A real sadist that threw one hell of a temper tantrum back in 1927, slit his wife's throat, sliced his own sons into pieces and then went a little slash happy with some of his fellow workers. Blood bath went on for days."

Shaking his head Dean tried to make sense of his story, "Why the hell would a dead guy kick off now some eighty years later? Just what did you do you Murdoch to bring him back like this?"

"Little hoodoo mojo I learnt from your old girlfriend in New Orleans. She was mighty accommodating when I told her I was going to use it to whip your sorry butt. Never did take kindly to you dumping and running out on her like that. Woman scorned and all…"

"Patty? That spiteful little bitch," spat out Dean inwardly cringing that his past exploits had come back to bite him on the ass again. From now on he was steering clear of all woman that spoke in tongues and danced naked when the moon was full.

Murdoch enjoying his moment of control crowed out, "On yeah, you should have heard what she called you Winchester. Really surprised that such a sweet young thing like that could know such filthy words. She really doesn't like you at all…."

Ignoring the jibe Dean looked over to Anderson, and couldn't help but snigger at seeing the man's shocked expression on realising how easily duped he had been. "Man you are so screwed. Murdoch isn't going to do a thing to help you out of here. You'd better start learning to shuffle on your butt real fast old man as your easy pickings on the menu of his dead psychotic killer."

Murdoch grinned maliciously ignoring the open plea on Anderson's face and waived the gun at Dean's head. "Turn around Winchester and don't even think of doing anything a little bit tasty because believe me I'm just itching to blow a hole in your head after our last encounter."

Dean growled out his frustration but slowly complied by turning to face the wall knowing that Murdoch would make good the threat and he was no good to his brother dead he reasoned.

As Dean felt his hands being tied expertly behind his back, skin burning as the rope bit hard, he still clung to the hope that if he could get free then he could get his brother out of this mess that he had led him into. Staying alive had to be top priority right now and sticking with Murdoch was the best way to ensure that for the time being.

A hard hand on his shoulder spun him back round and Murdoch grabbed his chin, "You better behave Winchester or you'll soon find out what it like to walk without the benefit of kneecaps. You understand me?"

Dean scowled but nodded his understanding. Patting his cheek with an almost fatherly touch Murdoch smiled and leant in, "Good boy, now lets go find that wayward little brother of yours and explain to him the error of his demon tainted ways."

As Dean was led out of the room he threw Anderson one last look, "You best hope that fugly bastard Saunders gets to you first because when I come back I'm going to finish what I started."

Murdoch chuckled and pushed him forward with the barrel of his gun hard against the small of his back. Dean stumbled forward but quickly righted himself and stepped out into the corridor glowering at the man.

Anderson called out after the retreating hunters with more than a hint of desperation in his voice, "What about me Ade? You can't leave me here. Not like this."

When there was no response he started in a crawl towards the door but it banged shut as soon as Murdoch exited the room. "No you can't do this to me," screamed out Anderson as once again the room sealed shut.

Dean grinned openly as the door was kicked shut by Murdoch on the crawling form of man he had once foolishly called friend. At least he knew where to find the turncoat when he got free.

The smile soon vanished though when he noticed the bloody marks on the steel door, smearing the handle and tainting the surrounding metal. Dean swallowed hard on spotting a clearly visible handprint higher up, as if someone had braced themselves in need of support. It was large print and long fingers had splayed out leaving a red sticky impression and instantly he knew it had been left there by his brother.

"Jesus," he whispered under his breath at the sight. Not once had he thought that his brother had gotten hurt when he talked with him through the door earlier. Sam had given him no clue to the fact and he hadn't thought to ask his main concern was getting out of that damn room and getting them both to safety.

As his eyes travelled along the dirty floor he could make out the odd splattered drops of blood every few yards and further smears of crimson on the bare plastered walls where Sam had brushed up against them.

Struggling to keep his breathing even Dean recalled his brother's throw away remark about the ghost having a 'power tool fetish' and realised Sam must have learnt about it in an all too real way.

Fear gripped him and his knees felt suddenly weak realising that things were even more screwed up than he could have ever imagined. Sammy was out there with no clue about Murdoch's paranoid plans for him, but worse was the fact there was a freaking homicidal spirit out there with access to enough power tools to cut a man in half.

None of this was good at all. He had to find Sam fast and get him the hell away from all this craziness.

For once he was thankful for the fierce shove from behind by Murdoch's inpatient hand galvanising his wobbly legs into action and he started walking down the long stretch of corridor, following after the bloody evidence his brother had left behind with a growing realisation that he had well and truly fucked up big time with this one.

Murdoch leant in and whispered spitefully into Dean's ear, "Looks like little brother has thoughtfully left a little trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Lead on Dorothy."

Just over a minute later Dean lurched to a halt by the stairwell his stomach doing flip-flops at the sight. A fresh spray of blood splattered one wall and frantic eyes searched around realising that this was the place his brother had said he was returning to get a crowbar for the door.

"Sammy," he whispered out in alarm on seeing the tool a few yards ahead, crimson tipped, worse though was the path of red that smeared the floor as if something had been dragged blooded along the floor. Dean mouth went dry as he was in no doubt that that 'something' had been his baby brother.

Murdoch sucked in a breath between clenched teeth at the disturbing sight. He really hadn't planned on the youngest Winchester being taken out before he had his little chat with him. Things were getting screwed, with Gil apparently dead and the youngest Winchester looking to go the same way. He had worked to damn hard to see all his long thought out plans go out of the window like this.

The long dead Jeremy Saunders was proving as mean a ghost as he had been a violent murderer in real life, his bloodlust just as strong in death as in life. "Naughty Jeremy, very naughty," he growled under his breath. "Just what have you done with the kid?"

Dean spun round to lock eyes with the man. "You better pray he's alive or I will kill you good and slow."

"Promises, promises," spat back Adrian waiving the gun purposely in his face. "What you gonna do? Verbally punch me to death?"

Murdoch laughed at the furious expression on Dean's face and put a hand on his shoulder pushing him forwards indicating for him to walk on with a nod of his head. "Hey Dean," he remarked drolly, "You'd would have thought a psychic hotshot like Sammy boy would have seen something like this coming?"

Dean's ground his teeth together at being so helpless and didn't bother with an answer, his heart beating loud in his chest as he followed the red path. Twenty yards on it stopped at the lip of the hole in the ground for lift shaft and hurriedly Dean looked over the edge sweat trickling down his neck fearing the worse.

Flinching at the scene below his eyes scoured the area for signs of his brother but found none. Finding his voice Dean hollered out his brother's name, which echoed up the shaft and around the floor only to be met with silence.

Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his brother's disappearance and instead took a step back from the hole shaking his head in denial. Not seeing Sammy down there dead was a positive thing he kept on telling himself. There was still hope to fix this fucked up day.

"Shit," snapped out Murdoch as he peered down to the bottom and saw only the dead security guard below, "Now just where has the little brat got to now?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam yelped in surprise at suddenly being airborne and the memory of the impaled security guard in the basement two floors below snapped his eyes wide open fearing the same fate.

Instinctively his good hand had lashed out searching for contact with something solid as he flew over the edge of the open lift shaft with the ghost's intention of making him fly made real.

Fingers stretched out and miraculously snagged around a bunch electrical cables dangling from the floor above like snakes and ignoring the scream of muscle and the painful tug on his shoulder he kept his grip. For a frightening moment he carried on falling till the cables pulled tight under his weight and he swung dizzily as his descent was abruptly halted.

Vision greying he clung desperately to the mass of cables before his body's momentum and gravity pulled him back in a sweep to the floor below the one he just fallen from and he dared to let go.

The drop of eight feet came at a rush and as he impacted with the concrete floor an expulsion of air from his bruised lungs escaped. Sam struggled to draw enough oxygen in and breathe through the pain, shivering on the cold floor just thankful to still be alive.

After awhile Sam managed to roll back onto his knees and a weak smile tugged at his lips as he realised just how close a call that had just been, "Freaking unbelievable, Dean's never gonna believe this one...never."

Ignoring the warm sticky mess on his face and neck he tried to stand but had to brace himself against a wall for support as his shaky legs threatened another up, close and personal meeting with the floor again.

Sam's head felt ready to implode as the monster of all headaches kept banging away from the inside of his skull. Blinking tiredly through the blanket of blood streaming down his face he tried to work out in which direction he had to go next.

'Up a floor' he told himself, back to his brother. "Come on find the stupid stairs. Not too hard…"

For all his intentions his body refused to move forwards as the world spun topsy-turvy and Sam swayed dangerously on his feet.

'Smack to the head with a crowbar was just no fun at all.' he told himself as his vision grew grey and all coherent thought left him just as his legs gave up the battle and buckled.

As the pull of unconsciousness overcame Sam the air grew decidedly chilled again and Jeremy materialised beside him just as he started this ungainly headfirst topple back to the concrete floor.

Giggling Saunders grabbed at Sam's limp form, letting his head loll back to the floor with a soft thud. "Fly boy trying to bust up yer head good and proper again. If you ain't careful your gonna leak out before I can have more playtime with yer."

When there was no response from Sam he frowned a little disgruntled that he had no audience to listen to him. "Like I see it kid you ain't got no right to causing more hurt to yourself. No siree I tell you when and how you get your licks from now on young man. Me and only me."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Oh my god," whispered Murdoch in horror as he pushed hastily past Dean in the stairwell doorway his eyes wide at seeing his cousin swinging lifelessly before him. The grey color to his skin only reinforced the smell of death around him and he gagged slightly at the scent.

Tears stung vicious but he blinked them away his face snarling in disapproval as he tried to dismiss his part in his cousin's death "Stupid idiot…why didn't you listen to me? We would have got the freak if you just stuck with the plan."

Dean swallowed hard and shook his head, "Poor dumb schmuch was crazy enough to follow after your stupid ass and look what it got him."

"This wouldn't have happened if you had dealt with your brother the way any other decent hunter would have done. We would never had to come here in the first placed," snapped back Adrian. Gently his hand touched the toe of one of Gil's tan coloured boots to make his limp body jib a strangely beautiful dance under the thrall of the strangling wires.

Distracted by his grief the blond hunter took his silence as some form of agreement not realising that Dean was working furiously at his bound hands. As he had jostled against Murdoch in the stairway earlier he snaked the switchblade from his jean pocket and was quickly eating through the thick rope.

Murdoch didn't appreciate the danger he was in until the knife sliced a thin line under his chin drawing blood. His Adam's apple wobbling dangerously close to the blade as Dean's breath hit his ear as he growled out. "Like I said it will be good and slow Murdoch what I will do to you if my brother is dead."

Taking the gun out of his hand Dean spun the large man around and before further words could be exchanged brought the butt of the gun in a tight swift arc to the blond man's temple knocking him out cold.

For a moment Dean studied the prone figure and was tempted to shoot him where he had dropped but instead leant down and pulled the talisman off his neck and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

Dragging him out of the stairwell he pulled Murdoch into a small closet and hogtied him with some metal wire, biting into skin. As he left him trussed up he didn't care one little bit that he wouldn't be able to protect himself if Saunders came calling. The bastard deserved everything that happened next he reasoned playing around with black magic like that.

Sam was his only priority right now and with that psychotic ghost still on the loose he had to get to him fast. He returned to the stairwell ignoring the gently swinging body and decided to start his search for his missing brother from the top floor downwards.

"Sammy don't you dare do something stupid like die on me kiddo," he whispered under his breath as he took the stairs two at times to the top floor. "How can I make this right if you aren't around for me to eat crow?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Jeremy Saunders flickered as the moonlight filtered through him. Crouching down he prodded at the decidedly unconscious figure wanting him desperately to wake up so he could continue his fun and games.

It had been an age since he could enjoy the thrill of watching the life pour out of a living being. The guard earlier had gushed beautifully all over his chest and floor, making such a pretty sight for starving eyes but it had happened all to quickly. Over and done with in seconds rather than the long hours it had taken for his own dunderheaded boys to die back in the day.

Patiently he had waited for Sam to stir but when he remained obstinately unconscious he prodded him with the tip of his foot. When there was no response he frowned and leant in to study the trail of blood congealing on the pale face in open fascination.

The smear of red stood out shouting out his living status to his long dead eyes and he just wished he could taste it again on his lips, on his tongue. Greedily he leant closer in and sniffed deeply and took a long lick up one side of his coated face but drew back disappointed when the longed for coppery taste could not be made out on his dead tongue.

Saunders eyes glinted dangerously as he dragged his icy fingertips against the nails embedded in the cast on Sam's arm enjoying the slick warmth dripping over his shrivelled skin. A thought came to him and he pushed against the tip of one metal nail and slowly it worked its way out of the cast to clatter to the ground.

Picking up the eight-inch nail he turned it over in his fingers and smiled in satisfaction thinking of what further damage he could have with it later.

Sighing he watched the steady rise and fall of Sam's chest and he pouted again, "Stupid boy, wake up now. I didn't you hit that hard did I? How can I hear your screams if you keep on sleeping like this?"

Leaning into him he shook Sam's shoulders but there was no response. It was no longer a thrill to just watch and wait and Saunders could sense the heartbeats of other men in the building and hungrily knew that he could be having fun with them whilst this one slept.

Smoothing the sticky hair away from Sam's forehead he whispered chilling, "Don't go anywhere my pet. I'll be back soon enough and then we can play some more when you open those pretty eyes of yours again. I promise."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

He tried to scream as the nail punctured the cornea of his eye to the viscous jelly inside then started to spasm as the metal bit deeper into brain matter. Determinedly Saunders pushed the nail in deeper laughing happily as the man continued to whimper even though the power of speech had deserted him when he had torn out his tongue.

"See I told you this would be fun."

TBC 

_Gruesome I know….but feedback as always warmly appreciated! _


	4. Chapter 4

_The usual disclaimers apply. _

_Sorry it took me an age to get this up and posted but RL has been literally hell on earth! Again thanks to all for the really supportive reviews. Again all mistakes are mine! Rozzy._

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 4: Rubbery limbs and a headache to match**

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Being a Winchester meant you learnt to deal with whatever hurts the world threw at you. Fast.

It was that stubborn characteristic that forced Sam awake. After all a smack to the skull with a crowbar with enough power behind it to smash a coconut to smithereens had to hurt like hell, but it still was not an excuse to be lying flat on his back when his brother needed him. No excuse at all.

Despite his stomach threatening to upchuck Sam unsteadily pulled himself back on his feet. He blinked lazily wondering why everything appeared blurred then he nodded to himself in understanding and wiped his shirtsleeve across his face and eyes to clear away the cloying mask of blood.

When his vision cleared he let trembling fingers check out the clotting wound on the side of his head and he winced as pain lanced through his skull. Next he took a steadying breath before daring to cast a look around. When it appeared that he was on his own he let out a long exhale of relief, "Okay, stairs. Get back to Dean."

In a strangely loose gait he started on his way back down the corridor purposely ignoring the whole 'I want to fall down and go back to sleep' message thumping in his head.

A silly grin split his face as he took his first staggered step up the stairs remembering his parting words with his brother before getting dinged on the head, 'Hope ya haven't frozen any of your precious assets off while I took a little nap big brother."

After the first few attempts to go upwards he knew he was in trouble as his large feet stumbled over every step, his rubbery limbs still proving hard to co-ordinate.

Slipping one times too many he made the mistake of falling against the handrail with his damaged arm and side and the resulting agony that erupted through his body made the world spin crazy once more. That's when his stomach finally rebelled and lost its contents.

"Sweet Mary and Joseph," Sam gasped out as the last heave left him with the sweat dripping off the tip of his nose as he hunched over. The retching had only reinforced the insistence that he was not going to do that again in a hurry.

'Nope,' thought Sam as he slowly tried to straighten up he would definitely veto any more rebellion from his stomach as the chunks torn out of his side earlier screamed fire at him again.

His hand pressed down against his side, trying to find some relief from the pain all the while trying to ignore the slick feeling of blood coating his fingers. Forcing himself to get past the disabling throbbing he mentally reminded himself of the long learnt mantra from his dad of 'Damn it suck it up Sammy. Suck it up.'

So that's what he did next, daring to put one heavy foot in front of foot as he started the climb up the final bank of stairs that would lead him back to his brother.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

_Gabe Tabry for all his street savvy smarts just never realised the dangers of trying to steal from a building site with a psychotic ghost on the loose until the first slash of the blade ripped through his flesh._

Earlier Gabe had met up for a few beers with his ex work colleagues on the old Postal Building refit and heard the rumours about the security guards taking a sabbatical tonight.

If he hadn't done a line of coke and downed three beers he might have just had enough sense to ask the reason why. Instead all he could think about was the opportunity it gave him to save his kneecaps from Big Sid's goons who had breathing down his neck for the money he owed him.

Since getting fired for turning up stoned one time to many money had been more than a little tight. Now armed with the knowledge of an unsecured building site with a stack of high quality tools left lying around it was like offering a lifeline to drowning man.

A ground floor window at the back of the building had popped open easy enough and within a few minutes the opportunist thief had managed to fill his large canvas holdall with enough loot to make his little venture on the wrong side of the law well worth it.

The only downside was that the bag was now too heavy and being slight of frame he was forced to drag it across the floor inch by inch.

When he got back to the open window he paused panting desperately to get air back into his body, sourly realising that there was no way he was going to be able to climb out the window with the bag this heavy.

He stared to divide up the load when the air grew decidedly frigid and a voice vibrated an alert at him. "Well this is a decided liberty stealing from me like this."

"Oh shit," Gabe muttered under his breath but before he could turn round to placate his accuser something sharp pierced his left buttock. Yipping in surprise and pain he dropped the circular saw he had just retrieved from the bag in shock and it fell to the floor with thud.

Tabry's shock quickly turned to outrage as his fingers came back bloody after touching his backside, "What the fucking hell?"

"You'll soon find out what that place is like you rotten little thief," warned his attacker.

Gabe spun round and his angry words died on his tongue as he swallowed back a frightened mewl of disbelief, his eyes bugging out in terror as the flickering grey figure smiling wickedly at him, freshly bloodied knife pointed in his direction.

The ghost wagged a finger at him whilst shaking his head in disapproval and Gabe found himself choking out a desperate plea, "Oh my god…this can't be real?"

"Real enough to make you pay for your dirty manners."

Gabe's legs started to buckle and he hugged the wall with his back as the grey figure flicked the knife at him again, "No please I'll put it all back I promise. Don't hurt me."

"Naughty silly creature, didn't yer momma never tell you that wicked deeds deserve to be punished?" cooed Saunders before stabbing the long serrated knife towards the petrified man's unprotected belly.

In the next few seconds Gabe Tabry learnt first hand what true terror was as the other hand of the ghost tore at his face, and the knife in his gut twisted and went in deeper.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sharp green eyes followed the trail of destruction on the top floor. Flinching he could see the peppered walls and wooden pallets sporting vicious looking nails that had been spat out from the now inert nail puncher on the floor.

On noticing the first set of splodges of red on the ground Dean kicked out at the tool sending it clattering across the floor all the while wondering just how many hits his brother had received, 'Goddamit Sammy didn't I teach you to duck and run?'

Finding his voice he hollered out his brother's name again the sound echoing around the open floor but like before there was no answer. "Come on Sammy you can't just up and disappear like this. I'm too old to be playing freaking hide and seek."

Trying his phone again he growled in frustration when he got the familiar no signal icon. Every minute apart from his brother was a minute too long. A minute where anything could have happened or could still be happening.

Dean ran his fingers doggedly threw his hair and tried to take stock of the situation. The only good thing he could think on was that the two bad ass hunters gunning for Sam were now out of the game, but that still left him with too many floors, too many room and too many goddam small crawl places to search out.

Angry with himself he kicked out again, this time at a loose bag of cement and his frustration and guilt sent a shower of fine dust into the air.

For a moment he watched the silty powder drift in a pull to the centre of the room towards the empty lift shaft then a hitch caught in his throat and his frame shook as he tried to keep the tears at bay. "You told me to keep him safe dad but its me he needs protecting from. Its my mistakes that keep on hurting him now"

When there was no comfort of an answer to the guilty thoughts swirling around in his head Dean tried to stand tall again, wiping a hand across his mouth as if to wipe away his spoken words, but they still sang true in his heart.

Remembering Murdoch's amulet he pulled it out and clenched strong fingers around it. When he found his brother the first thing he was going to do was tie it round his neck and then get him the hell out of this place. The salt and burning of Jeremy Saunders would have to come later.

Now he had to find his brother and make everything right again.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Pulling out the nail from the mutilated eyeball Saunders delighted in the slight popping sound that follow. Sitting on his haunches he watched in rapt delight as the small wiry man twitched and gurgled under his touch.

Tabry's continued to spasm and Saunders leant back in with a pout, "Bad bad man trying to take what's mine. What do you have to say for yourself now, eh?"

He paused and prodded the nail at the dying man's other eye menacingly, "What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?"

The bloody cough that sprayed the air was the only response and the ghost giggled eyes locking on the severed tongue by his feet, "Oops silly me."

Eyeing the shallow decreasing breaths he patted the man's head sadly, "Looks like your not even gonna moan for me anymore are you? You're just no fun at all."

As Tabry's body continued to twitch the ghost watched for a while then shook his head a sudden thought making his dark eyes glitter dangerously, "Like I said there's a special place in hell for thieves like you."

Firing up the small circular saw that Tabry had dropped it earlier Saunders smiled happily. "I think it's about time I help you on your way there."

Gabe's heart took its final beat as Saunders took his head from his shoulders painting the wall and glass window with a fine spray of red.

Leaning back to admire his handy work Saunders grinned broadly decidedly thankful of his resurrection from Hell to continue his rampage on the living. 'Still.' he thought regretfully, 'What a pity I can't taste all that delicious stuff they keep spilling out for me.'

Shrugging his bony shoulders Saunders dropped the saw into the lap of the dead man and managed to chuckle out cheerfully, "Oh well beggars can't be choosers Jeremy old boy. They still bleed pretty enough."

He whistled a loud cheery tune as he left the remains of Tabry on the floor remembering that he had unfinished business with the young man with the long brown hair and soft gentle eyes.

As he flexed his long bloodied fingers he studied them in admiration, "I told papa that I missed my calling. I would have made a damn fine surgeon."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

With renewed determination Dean rang back to the stairs as he finished with the search of the top floor praying that the next floor down would be were he'd find Sam. He froze though on pushing the heavy door open as a sharp mechanical sound echoed up the stairwell.

It was a distinctive noise, a high pitched whine that turned Dean's stomach causing his imagination to run wild. Then the loud whirr changed in resonance as metal tore into something solid. It lasted only a few brief second and then all went silent again.

Dean swallowed hard and went to call out his brother's name but his jaw snapped shut when he heard the whistling drift up to him. It was a jaunty tuneful sound and Dean knew that no way would that be Sam and that meant only one thing, that Saunders was at play again.

He screamed out his brother's name and in a desperate race he literally jumped down each block of stairs, rushing past the gruesome sight of a still swinging Gil without a glance. All he could think on as he chased down the haunting whistling was that whatever that dead sonofabitch Saunders was up to it couldn't be good.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The chunky blond haired man awoke with the tickling sensation of cement dust up his nostrils and immediately started to sneeze. As his body shook with each loud sneeze the awful reality bit deep as metal wrapped tight around his bound wrists and ankles started to sting and draw blood.

Murdoch shaking off the fuzzy feeling in his head tried to make sense of where he was. All he could make out was the shape of a door, the metal glint of a door handle and bucket and mop.

"The bastard's left me in the freaking janitors closet," groaned out Murdoch in disbelief.

Trying to inch some comfort back into his hog-tied form he felt more than a pang of embarrassment that he could have been taken out so damn easily by Dean, and he growled under his breath, "Cocky little shit gonna pay big time when I get my hands on him again."

Grunting as he tried to twist and pull against the unyielding wires his temper grew, "I'll make you bleed for this Winchester. I'll gut your little brother and I'll make you watch as his insides spill out."

The verbal venting felt good but he knew that he was still up shit creek without a paddle. After all his cousin whom he normally trusted to have his back was dead and that left only his deadbeat weak assed half brother Hank to figure out that he was in trouble.

The only problem with that was that he knew his stupid brother didn't have two brain cells to rub together to have a thought of his own never mind get past Dean Winchester. The jerk was more than likely snoring his head off in the back of the truck where he had left him last.

Despairing at the idea that his life was now dependent on the weakest member of his seriously diminishing family he felt the sweat trickling from his scalp down his neck fear making itself physical.

By the looks of things he would have to wait for the workmen to come back in the morning to free his sorry ass. As he stopped squirming and gave in to the long wait at least he could comfort himself that at least he had his amulet to protect him from that murderous old goat Saunders.

**o0o0o0o0oo**

By the time Sam had staggered up to the next floor his shirt was stuck to him through a mixture of sweat and blood and his breath came out in ragged grunts but he refused to slow down. Already he had taken too long to get back to his brother.

Retrieving the crowbar that the ghost had whacked him with earlier he tottered down the corridor to the metal storeroom. His only priority was getting his brother out of his cell and banging on the door he announced his presence. "Hey Dean… I'm back."

When there was no reply he feared that his little bout of unconsciousness might have cost him dearly. Dean might have frozen too death whilst he played Sleeping Beauty. He banged loudly again and still there was no answer.

Taking a second to fight down his panic Sam struggled to know what to do next. He was barely able to stand never mind lever open a heavy steel door but he wasn't ready to give up.

Desperately he eyed the metal wheel on the door that the ghost had managed to freeze shut on him earlier and tentatively he reached out, expecting the icy touch of before but was left hoping as he dared to spin the wheel.

When it spun freely he wanted to sob openly with relief especially when the heavy door unlocked with a satisfying clunk.

On shoving the door open Sam jimmied the crowbar into the gap between hinges and doorframe to stop it being slammed shut again. His head may well be more than a little light on coherent thought right now but he still had enough sense not to walk into the room and risk getting them all locked in if Casper decided to come back and play again.

As he took the first small step into the dimly lit room the yammering in his skull grew so strong that a fierce moan escaped as firecrackers of pain exploding behind his eye lids.

Fighting against the threat of collapse Sam steadied himself by putting a hand out to cling to the doorframe. Still the world spun and his vision tunnelled to black threatening to drag him back to unconsciousness.

"No, no, no," he commanded of himself refusing to let his body dictate to him what he could or could not do. "You have to get your brother out of this place now.'

When the pain started to mutate back to a more manageable throb he dared to open his eyes again blinking owlishly in the dim light and managed to gasp out, "Dean, you okay in here?"

As he searched out the shadows Sam's mouth thinned to a tight line when all that greeted him was listing form of Anderson. Casting another cursory scan around the room his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Where the hell was Dean?

"Take another step and I'll fucking shoot you," Anderson suddenly growled out his grey hooded eyes locked on Sam in warning.

Forehead puckering in a frown of disbelief Sam noticed the wobbling shotgun pointed his way and shook his head. "What the hell man? It's me Sam Winchester."

As he looked at the older hunter Sam saw the fear written clear on Anderson's face and mistook it for something else. Terror of the ghost that had been using him for target, fear that it might have returned, never guessing the true reason.

In two long uneven strides he reached the collapsed man's side noting that he looked as bad as he felt and easily batted aside the shotgun from loose fingers, "Come on Anderson where's my brother?"

Gulping in some air Ben shook his head slowly kneading the top of his calf to battle against the pain of the broken bone, "Things got a little bent out of shape, namely my leg. Got busted good and proper."

Wincing at the sight of bone protruding through torn jeans Sam nodded, "Yeah I can see that man. But what about my brother? What the hell went on here?"

Anderson took a moment to study the bloodied Winchester who looked back at him with such concern and felt a tremor of guilt go through him. "I fucked up big time son is what."

Dean would really kill him now if could see what had happened to his little brother he thought as he noted the list of injuries he sported. Blood thick and sticky matted Sam's hair to his scalp and more red stains had covered the top of his shirt and right side. Even worse than that was seeing the state of his arm with nails visibly poking out from the now crimson tainted cast.

Now that had to hurt like a bitch Ben told himself, almost as much as his busted leg.

Sam put a reassuring hand on Anderson's shoulder all too familiar with the shocky look on his pale features but he still pressed for an answer, "Come on dude, where is Dean?"

"Got out," lied Ben secretly pleased with himself as he saw the relief flood over the younger man and quickly followed it up with another untruth, "Gone to sort out that bitch that shook us up a bit."

"But why would he leave you like this?" Sam whispered out his disbelief as despite his scrambled thought processes the one thing he could be sure about his brother was that he was never disloyal. He would have never left a friend behind. Not ever.

Anderson noting his bewilderment quickly played the situation to his own advantage, "Your brother didn't have time to haul my ass out of here and find you too kid. That's why he left me the gun."

"He went to find me?" gasped out Sam guilt hitting him hard and with it the sharp stabbing spikes in his head like earlier returned.

Swallowing back bile his vision blurred and before he could stop himself Sam toppled forwards and leant in a prop against the wall struggling just to breathe through the agony beating in his skull.

"Shit. Hurts." he managed to choke out as he pressed his forehead against the cold wall willing the pain to go away.

Anderson thankful that Sam was none the wiser about his duplicity watched the kid readying to collapse and his own panic rose again. He couldn't stay here, he had to get out and the only way that was going to happen was if the youngest Winchester dragged him out.

Putting on his best 'put out and pissed off' hunter voice Ben snapped up harshly to Sam, "Hey don't fuck around and go all girly on me now by fainting Winchester. Its not as if I'm gonna be running out of here anytime soon is it? I need a hand here man."

The sharp words broke through the barrier of pain and snapped Sam back into action and he shut away his need to crawl into a tight ball and sleep. Nodding his understanding he licked dry lips, "Yeah, gotta get you out of here. Not gonna let anyone else die tonight."

Sam reached down and picked up the shotgun off the floor sticking it in to the back of jeans then proceeded to haul the stockier man back to his feet. A small intake of breath followed as the weight pulled on his injured side and he felt a fresh trickle of liquid warmth slip down his flank.

Ignoring his own discomfort Sam patted the man's shoulder before proceeding further, "Sorry this may hurt like a bitch but it's the only way I can think of getting you out of here quickly."

Anderson knew what was coming and his face grew tight in anticipation of the pain to come as Sam lifted him off the ground and onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry, his broken leg and collar bone sending flares of pain through him and he whimpered despite himself.

When Sam took his first unsteady step towards the doorway the movement jostled the broken bones even more and Ben cried out. "Gawd, shit! Best get me the hell out of here fast boy or I'll be puking all down the back of your legs."

"You do that dude and I'm dropping you like a dead weight," grunted out Sam in warning, already labouring under the heavy man's weight and the constant sapping reminder of his own injuries.

As he staggered forward he tried to keep his focus. _Get the man out of the building then finish the job with Dean._ All doable he told himself and reassured Anderson so and in process sounded just like his brother, "You're gonna be fine, just suck it up man."

As he was carried out of the room that had been his prison Ben let out a long juddering sigh of relief. He could feel the heat pouring off from the younger man sensing he was close to collapse but being a typical Winchester he just wouldn't give in.

Thankful for the boy's strength of will he clung desperately on to the back of Sam's waist wishing for a slug of tequila or five to help block out that heavy feeling of guilt running through him.

Deep down Ben had really wanted to hate the boy. To hate him enough to justify his betrayal of his brother's trust, but damn it to hell everything about Sam just spoke such a naked honesty that it left him confused to wonder if he had got it all wrong.

None of this whole demon business made a lick of sense anymore. The boy if you dared to really look at him was about as evil as freaking Mother Theresa. Hell Bambi had more a chance of going darkside than the kid lugging his broken ass back to safety.

Closing his eyes he could recall his last drunken conversation with his father. How Johnny had hinted at what he knew about the demon and his plans for certain children linked to him. Dark terrible things that had chilled his blood and left him with a need to stop what was about to happen. No matter what. No matter who these kids were.

A hiss of hurt followed by a thin groan brought Anderson back to the present and he listened anxiously at how Sam gulped down air noisily whilst his stuttering steps grew slower and less co-ordinated.

"You doing okay kid?" Ben asked alarmed as the tremors rippling through Sam's tiring body increased, "You need a breather?"

"Naw man. Can't stop," grunted back Sam hoarsely blinking through the sting of sweat that bled into his eyes blurring his vision, "Gotta drop and run and then help Dean…No stopping."

Anderson had to bite back another frisson of agony again as Sam readjusted his weight across his shoulder and his fingers dug desperately into Sam's shirt for purchase as he felt himself slipping.

Feeling Sam's body tiring under the struggle to get him out Ben took a deep breath and confessed, "I'm sorry kid."

"For what?" Sam's brow puckered trying to remember what the man had to be sorry for and despite the continued pounding in his skull shook his head, "For the punch? Forget it man. I got mine in first remember?"

"Yeah," Anderson flinched just glad that the kid couldn't sense the guilt pouring off him. "Remind me. Felt like I'd been hit with a fucking anvil."

Enjoying the distraction from the catalogue of injuries that continued to drain away his strength Sam laughed softly, "That's Dean's fault - strong bones and all. He forced milk into me by the gallon load from a baby. Not even a hit with a crowbar is gonna crack through my thick skull."

Ben laughed as his respect grew even more for the youngest Winchester, "That what happened Sam? You got nailed good and hard and are still able to walk me out of here?"

"Yeah. Learnt how to fly and fall flat on my face with grace too! Some night eh?"

"Uh?" grunted back Anderson his brow creasing in confusion. "Flying?"

"Forget it man. It was nothing," huffed back Sam fighting desperately against the weariness threatening to bring him back down on to his knees. Head glancing up he eyed the approaching exit and told himself only another ten yards, another ten steps, and then he could drop off Ben and then go find his brother.

Anderson kept on digging though, a need to know what the kid had gone through worrying away at him. "Like your arm? What the hell caused that?"

"Spirit got attuned to the twenty first century gadgets pretty damn fast. Power tool fetish I think."

Sucking in a breath Ben could mentally picture the damage being done, "Now that had to hurt like a mother…"

Sam shook his head slightly confessing tiredly, "Dean is gonna be so pissed. Didn't duck fast enough."

"I think he'll just be glad to see you in one piece. Sort of anyways."

Sam chuckled humourlessly his words punctuated with each stuttering breath he tried to drag into his lungs, "No he'll chew my ass out big time. Thinks I screw up too much as is. He'd be better off flying solo may be…."

"No, that not how your brother sees it kid. Believe me. Not at all."

Sam didn't answer as the journey out of the building was taxing him to his limits. He dragged in a hungry breath as the cool touch of the night air touched his clammy skin and anxiously he stumbled towards the open exit.

With his heavy breathing and the thump of his own heartbeat loud in his ears Sam didn't hear his name being called from up above as he took his first unsteady step out into the open air.

Anderson did and his head jerked up in alarm knowing all to well who was calling out for him and not wanting to having face the older Winchester again he barked out loudly, "Hurry kid. Hurry. I think its coming back…"

Under the older man's urging Sam managed to lengthen his stride and took them both out to safety digging deep into his inner reserves to get Anderson back to their vehicles parked a few yards ahead.

Dropping his burden in an untidy heap by the parked truck Sam sucked in wheezy lungs full of air, his whole body threatening rebellion as every muscle screamed out a need for rest, whilst his parched throat was in desperate need of a drink of water

"Shit man you did it," whispered Anderson in open thanks before hastily drawing himself up to haul himself into the driver's seat.

Broken leg or not the older hunter knew he needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and Dean. If he knew one thing about Sam's brother it was that someone like Murdoch just couldn't keep him contained for long.

Hurriedly he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out his spare cell phone and grinned happily when it lit up. Time to call in the cavalry to get his busted ass out of here.

Straightening up Sam staggered over to the Impala and took out bottle of water trying to quench his thirst. The water spilled down his chin but he was too tired to wipe it away enjoying the chilling sensation falling down his neck and the top of his sticky shirt.

By the time he had emptied the bottle he felt enough strength returning to feel the pit of fear in his stomach once again for his brother.

Yanking the trunk open he quickly picked ups some more rock salt rounds and a flask of holy water. Stuffing them into his pockets he tried to think of anything else that would be of use but the clock was ticking in his head screaming a warning that Dean was still alone in that building. This would have to do.

Determination set hard on his face as he slammed the trunk shut. Not just for his brother did he need to go back and finish the job.

There was also a little girl called Molly waiting for her daddy to return home with her brightly wrapped present. He felt such heartache for her, knowing that she would never hear her daddy say that he loved her ever again and it was a grief he could still fully understand.

As he pulled out the shotgun from the small of his back he was going to make sure that whatever that spirit was he was going to make sure that he sent its evil ass all the way back to the hell before the night was through.

With a small acknowledging nod over to his brother's buddy Sam pushed away from the Impala and with a surprisingly steady gait trotted back towards the house, the moonlight bathing in him a soft natural glow leaving him visible and bright.

Ben watched as Sam's tall figure slipped back into the building and then called in his first favour of the night.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Well you are just one ugly fugly bastard aren't you," snapped out Dean as Saunders hissed at him. "Not fucking whistling a happy tune now are we you psychotic little shit."

TBC 

_**Feedback as always warmly received.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_Again usual disclaimers apply and all tupid mistakes are mine._

_Well guys sorry for the delay but a whole catalogue of RL issues kept me away from getting this chapter out (I gave it real bashing and a bloody nose today and RL is skulking in the corner muttering a return but I have my beady eye on it!). Hopefully you'll still enjoy this chapter despite the lateness in posting._

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 5: All in all a win-win scenario**

Dean Winchester for all his innate charisma sometimes brought out the worst in even the nicest of people at times. But Jeremy Saunders had never been what you could label as 'nice' so his reaction was predictable. He really wanted to spit bullets of hate at the man.

To say that Dean had rubbed him up the wrong way with his opening remarks would be a major understatement. The impudent young pup waving the gun in his face had proven to have no respect. None whatsoever.

What had the world come to when the youth of this world used such contemptible language with their elders he wondered to himself.

Long dead fingers just itched to teach him a good lesson and beat some of that arrogance out of him, but no matter how many times he tried to get to him an invisible force propelled him backwards.

Worse than that was the added indignity that he couldn't get away either. Whatever power the man possessed kept him dangling like marionette, his limbs moving as the man moved, drawn and repelled all at the same time.

Snarling his disgust at this lack of control Saunders was fizzing with undiluted anger. At first he had felt the tingle that ran through him somewhat exhilarating, almost like a forgotten memory of blood running through his veins, of life itself, but now it just mightily pissed him off.

After all there really was no fun to be had in the just watching and his hands yearned to reach out and slice him open, enjoy the gush of warmth, of red, escape in all its glory. He was despite his bitching mouth a mighty fine specimen of a man.

Dean took a step forwards and Saunders felt a disturbing spasm jangle through him again as propelling him back in return. The spasm caused his form to flicker in and out of existence before solidifying again.

Hissing his annoyance Saunders eyed Dean cautiously, "This is getting very irritating young man. Let me go and perhaps I won't strip the muscles from your bones later."

"Yeah I'm sure you'd like to try," Dean smirked in appreciation as he watched the ghost in obvious discomfort. Murdoch for once really had come up with the goods as the amulet was keeping the spirit well and truly under his control.

Still for all his bravado Dean was more than a little frightened, frightened to find out what the freak had done to his brother. "I could keep you here all night but you see my brother has a date elsewhere so you best be telling me where he is. Now."

Saunders taut face grimaced into a semblance of a smile, pleased at this new information, "Brother? Now pray tell which one would that be. They all bled so lovely for me you see."

Dean tried to disguise his fear and kept his voice clipped and sharp, "Yeah you know, tall guy, dark brown hair."

The grey figure nodded in appreciation his lips rounding in a soft 'Oh' before he answered, "That pretty young boy is your brother? Must make your daddy real proud to have such fine sons. Bit like my boys were before I slit their throats."

"Yeah well chuckles this time round you better pray that Sam is still alive."

"Sam? Nice solid name." Saunders beamed back happily armed with this extra information, "Thing is I'm not quite done with him yet."

"I think you are," growled back Dean pulling back the hammer of the gun in warning. "Now tell me where you left him or your really going to know what pain is all about again."

Saunders glanced up at the ceiling as if trying to hear Sam's heartbeat through the concrete floor and walls, before turning lazily back to Dean sniffing at the threat, "Can't kill what's already dead ya know."

Dean shook his head and his own smile was bright and dangerous, "What I can do freak is to make you feel a whole world of pain before I send you back to nothing. So you freaky little bastard for the last time where is my brother?"

Jeremy's hollow eyes narrowed his supercharged senses picking up the racing thud-thud of Sam heartbeat above the others in the building, "Well I can tell you he's not where I left the naughty boy that's for sure."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean's scalp prickled in alarm his finger tightening on the trigger readying to blast the smirk off Saunders gaunt face.

A scream, loud but definitely feminine suddenly split the air and Dean found himself turning to the doorway, the sound a momentary distraction from the threat at hand.

It was at a cost Dean was to regret later because the step backwards broke his connection with the ghost, the distance just enough to weaken the amulets controlling energy.

Saunders grinned as the buzzing in his head lifted and the restraint over his movements vanished. A chuckle passed his dead lips at this new freedom and he started to dissolve away through the masonry, dark thoughts working up a storm as to what he would do next.

Dean's hackles instantly raised at the sound and he swung back to see the ghost dematerialising. Firing instinctively the shot that peppered the plasterboard but it was too late to stop Saunders from escaping.

"Oh fucking great," he spat out angrily with himself all too aware that his distraction had allowed the ghost to literally slip out of his control.

For a moment he wondered what to do next, fingering the now ineffectual amulet in his hand. Despite all his goading he had failed to find out where his brother was, though Saunders had hinted that he was back on his feet again. Which in itself meant he was still alive.

Another shrill scream galvanised Dean into action and he started in a run towards were the sound had come from ignoring the tug on his battered and bruised ribs.

A giggle chased after him then Saunders sing song voice taunted him from behind the barrier of brick and mortar. "Run as fast as you can boy but I bet I can get to your sweet tasting brother before you do."

Dean didn't have time to play verbal tit-for-tat with the skulking ghost and kept on his pursuit of the screamer. He just hoped that if Sam had heard the screams that he would be running in that direction too. After all his little brother had always been a sucker for a damsel in distress.

Calling out his brother's name loudly as he run while reloading his shotgun he just prayed that he would get there ahead of Saunders.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Anderson had started up the truck when the first gunshot reached his ears. In the stillness of the night air the sound had travelled from the building in frightening clarity. He could guess what was playing out inside that building and wasn't prepared to see who the victor might be.

Using the butt of his rifle as a brake control he started up the truck and defied the agony of his broken leg to drive away. The further he got away from Dean Winchester or whoever else came out that building the better.

Whatever happened next he would have no part in, he told himself. He done what he could but he wasn't no freaking martyr. He swallowed back the feeling of guilt with a long slug of tequila, letting the alcohol slide down his throat in a familiar warmth.

After all the Winchester boy had dragged him out of that hellhole all on his own doing, hadn't he? Why should he care that the stupid kid and gone back in again all on some suicidal need to help his brother. He couldn't have stopped him, not with his busted leg. The giant of a kid was John Winchester's son after all. Stubborn to the core.

'Yeah Ben, yer couldn't have stopped him. Bloody Winchesters always do things their way,' he told himself as he took another slug of tequila. As he tried to convince himself his eyes watered, tears falling as the guilt kicked in. "Stupid kid. Why you have to be so fucking normal?"

As he weaved down the road he knew there was as special place in hell for people like him and he just prayed that when he got there John Winchester wasn't waiting to greet him.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Beryl Bowden's knees had buckled dangerously as a shriek left her lips. Her safe world collapsed inwards at the sight below.

After all Ray had promised to be back within ten minutes with Molly's present. He had promised so faithfully that she had believed him totally. Not even when he failed to return and she was forced to leave her daughter with her sister and the rest of the party children had the possibility entered her head that something as dreadful as the sight below might have happened.

She thought he might have just simply fallen asleep after doing a double shift, maybe even stopped for a quick beer to perk himself up, but on seeing his car parked up out side she never expected when she walked into the building to find him dead.

Sobbing by the lip of the vast hole she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet still struggling to absorb the image of her husband's body impaled on a metal shaft below. "No, Ray, no," she muttered inconsolably, "Baby not you."

Another frightened scream was pulled from her as a large blast reverberated around the naked walls making her physically jump. Dangerously close to the hole she tottered for a moment before she felt a pull on her shoulder and she was dragged back to safety.

Turning fear filled eyes around she gasped in shock as seeing the long bloodied fingers resting on her jacket lapel and in a rush her eyes travelled upwards to see the person they belonged too and she screamed again.

Sam knew he must have looked quite a disturbing sight but the way the woman had nearly shattered his eardrums with her screech of horror made his head ring. "Sorry if I scared you. But you have to get out of here now."

"My Ray is down there," sobbed Beryl rooted to the spot finger pointed in disbelief to the floors below.

Sam was desperate to get her away but was struggling to find the necessary words to make her understand and all that came out was a weak apology, "I'm sorry."

Eying the tall boy who clearly was not doing to well she spotted the handgun in his belt and she pulled warily out of his grip eyes accusing, "Did you do this? Are you going to hurt me?"

Sam swallowed with difficulty back the guilt he felt, "No I found him much like you did. But he did say before, before he passed, tell Molly that he loved her."

Beryl's chin fell to her chest her face crumbling in distress as the reality hit home, "Oh my god how can I tell her that her daddy is gone? How can I tell our baby that?"

Sam reached out for her again determined to pull her way from the grisly sight below. As he commandeered her by the elbow he willed her not to faint on him as her legs wobbled and moved his hand down to around her waist to steady her. "I'm sorry, really I am, but you have to get out of here."

Beryl started to sob again but Sam prayed she would be strong enough to carry on walking. He just wasn't ready to do another carryout of the building no matter how slight the woman was and tried to make her understand the danger she was in, "Molly is going to need you to be safe. You have to leave now."

Mutely Beryl blinked up at him her breathing ragged and broken as the tears just kept falling. Blindly she let him walk her away not daring to ask what had happened to leave him in such a state only sensing the urgency vibrating off him. A palpable fear oozed off him that truly scared her.

She felt him stiffen as a voice loud and urgent called out a name that ricocheted around the building. Cocking a quizzical look up at him she snuffled back her tears, "Sam? Is that you?" When he nodded the introductions were made formal. "I'm Beryl, Beryl Bowden."

Sam threw her a weak smile, despite the determination in his voice he was not able to mask his body's weariness, "Okay Beryl that was my brother calling but the thing is I still need to get you out of here. I can't keep you protected."

Dean called out again for his brother and Beryl froze wondering what instincts to trust. The boy trying to protect her seemed about ready to pass out and the voice calling after him sounded desperate. "He sounds scared. Scared for you…"

Sam could feel her eyes on him and gave a brief dazzling flash of dimples before brushing away the dangling mop of hair over his eyes, "Trust me Dean's never scared. He'll finish it now…."

The words made no sense to Beryl and she felt panic rising in her chest again as Sam swayed slightly, "Perhaps we should wait for your brother or I could call out and let him know where here?"

Beryl looked up at Sam dreading the truth that would spill out of his mouth but still needing to hear it nonetheless. Her heart fluttered again as he shook his head, face set in a frown. "No…don't want to alert the bastard who hurt your husband that you're here. Gotta get you out first. Get you safe."

Beryl started to weep softly again glad of the protective stance of the boy who held her in a small synch at the waist despite his own needs to fall to the ground. Finding the courage she dared ask, "Who did that to my Ray?"

"A very bad man."

It was an honest but simplistic answer but Sam really didn't think she would cope with the whole truth. Ignoring her painful sobs he continued to propel her towards the exit as he'd be damned if he let another innocent person get hurt today.

When something flickered to the right of his vision he cursed out in alarm and pulled the small woman instinctively behind him. Raising his gun he cocked the hammer and fired and the loud bang that filled the air around them brought another scream of fear from Beryl.

"Oh my god, what was that?" she demanded, clinging onto Sam's forearm needing the solid connection to keep her from collapsing in fright.

She could hardly trust her eyes to process what she thought she had just seen. Something grey, something almost human smiling so wickedly at her that the very marrow in her bones had iced up in its presence.

Sam didn't have time to answer as the growing chill made the air frigid and a familiar voice taunted him, "Hey Sam you ready to play some more before your pesky brother turns up to spoil our fun?"

His immediate concern was for Beryl and Sam turned to her desperate to get her away from the ghost, "Run, get out of here now. For your little girl's sake don't your dare stop until you get outside."

The woman stood immobile before him afraid that on her first step away from his protection she'd fall down and never get up again. "I…I can't…"

Before Sam could insist further a familiar voice barked out a command, "Sam. Down. Now."

Beryl felt herself being pulled roughly down, falling with a heavy jolt to the ground as rock salt blistered the air above them showering the area with a pitting spray of grit.

She felt her heart pounding in her chest and struggled to breathe under Sam's crushing weight as he wrapped himself protectively over her then fell still.

A low hiss whispered around them as Saunders form slid up through the ceiling evading the blast by a fraction of a second as Dean had waited for Sam to obey his command.

Dean hurried to where Sam was still doing his human shield act, "Come on Sammy I know it's been a long time but this is no way to treat a lady on a first date."

Beryl on seeing Dean's legs in her limited field of vision coughed out a small breathless plea under Sam's inert form, "Please help me."

Dean nodded at her then squatted down and patted his brother's shoulder but got no response. His nostrils flared at the copper taint in the air and leant in closer a flicker of distress rippled across his face at noticing the wetness bedding Sam's dark locks to his scalp.

Taking a long deep breath Dean tried to keep himself calm. He knew that his brother had been hurt but was only now just starting to see the damage done. Tracing over the sticky mess his fingers came away with a familiar slickness. "Shit little brother, that crowbar really found its mark."

The sight of his brother's blood galvanised him into action and he tucked the shotgun in the waist of his jeans before slipping his hands under Sam's armpits grimacing as he felt the heat leaching from his brother.

His brother weighed a freaking tonne so it seemed and he grunted with the effort as he tried to lift him off, "Come on Sammy give me some help here dude."

Frightened of Saunders making a return appearance he yanked a little rougher than he had intended and his feet suddenly slid from underneath him. His brother's limp body with him as he landed on his butt and Dean felt a spasm of guilt run through him as Sam dropped to his side with a soft thud.

Dean quickly crawled over to him and tried to assess the damage to his brother further. As he turned him onto his back his lips curled in outrage as he saw the bloody mess of his head, sticky with clotting blood and then his eyes travelled to the stain on the side of his shirt. Gingerly he lifted it up to see the torn ruined flesh that ran in lateral strips past the ribcage and waist and his mouth went dry.

"Oh hell Sammy," he stuttered out, his fingers shakily touching his neck to feel a fast thready pulse beat back. "That freak really did a number on you."

Patting his cheek gently at first and then a little more forcibly when his brother didn't react Dean tried to raise his brother, "Come on Sleeping Beauty wakey, wakey this is really a bad time to be taking a girly nap for crying out loud."

Sam groggily responded to his brother's verbal and physical command eyes darting open and Dean's face, blurry but so welcome, came into view and he asked tiredly, "You get the bastard?"

Dean shook his head, "Not this time round. Slippery bugger moves damn fast….faster than you can drop little brother that's for sure."

"Sorry," whispered back Sam trying to focus on his brother's face as he struggled to sit up independently not liking the view point from the flat of his back.

Dean wanted to cry, cradle his brother to him and tell him that the blame lay firmly in his lap. Instead he reached out to help bring him up but then his thumb snagged on a nail sticking out of the cast of his brother's arm and he hissed his surprise.

"What the hell," he demanded his eyes widening in surprise as a droplet of blood pooled on his thumb and then he saw the nails spiked through the cast, "Goddamit Sammy you really let the bastard nail you good and proper didn't you?"

Sam flinched at hearing his brother's exasperated tone and accusation and cradled his busted arm to his chest desperate to clear his woolly head against the backdrop of a killer headache. With a shrug he confessed with an apologetic smile, "Like you said he's fast, sort of snuck up on me. Sorry."

Swallowing hard Dean shook his head, still trying to take on board the sight of his injured brother, "Jeez you moron you've got nothing to be sorry about. Nothing."

Dean locked eyes with brother and saw only confusion reflected back him, his little brother clearly not expecting the apology from him. Just how weird had their lives become, he asked himself, if he allowed Sam to take on a world of hurt and blame himself for his big brother's mistakes.

Patting his brother's cheek gently he leant in and whispered forcibly, "Listen I screwed up here. Not you."

Dean stood up hurriedly on seeing his brother's eyes start to glitter remembering all to well that a hurt Sam was a way too vulnerable Sam.

Hardening his voice he knew his brother needed to brought back to his feet and away from Saunders. Snaking down a hand he looped it around his left wrist and hauled Sam back up onto unsteady feet, "Come on, you with game now? Gotta get out of here before our little Mr Unfriendly decides to come back and pays you another visit"

Sam gave a small nod then frowned remember his latest fall, "Hey is she okay?"

A small snuffle behind him reminded Dean of the 'she' his brother was asking about. The woman his brother had flattened was now on her feet brushing off the cling of cement, her dirty face streaked with the path of tears. The grief of early superseded momentarily by the utter terror of seeing her first ghostly apparition.

Glancing over his shoulder as he kept his brother upright he gave her brief glance over, noticing the tremors running through and threw her a tight smile of reassurance. "Looks like I turned up just in time. You ready to get out of here sweetheart, cos I got a tell you its not the best place for your health at the moment."

Beryl started to sob again and Sam sighed and whispered in Dean's ear. "Her husband was killed here tonight…."

Closing his eyes in disbelief at how glib his words must have sounded Dean muttered under his breath, 'Shit'

He snuck out a hand and grabbed her arm and in a gentle pull drew her to him, "Come on lets get you both out of here."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Murdoch recognised the sound of muffled gunfire even from where he lay and guessed that the Winchester brothers were finding his newly resurrected ghost a bit of a handful. He grinned maliciously hoping for the maximum damage.

He tried to ease the burn in his muscles as he lay tied up and jiggled around on his stomach but it only caused the wire to dig deeper. Growling out his discomfort he wondered just where his witless brother was as this was now officially more than bloody embarrassing

As the air grew frigid around him he felt a spasm of fear ripple down his spine before cold hands yanked his head up, fingers tearing a clump of hair out of his scalp and he screamed in pain.

Dead eyes bored into his own which were now watering with a mixture of tears of pain and fear. "You can't do this," he managed to spit out as Saunders looked him over. "I summoned you, you can't hurt me….."

Saunders sat on his haunches fingers hooking playfully into the wires digging into his captive's wrists enjoy the intake of breath as the man struggled to keep back a cry, "Now then poppet, you wanna tell me exactly what makes you think that."

Panting against the metal biting into his skin Murdoch shook his head, "Cos without me you still be nothing more than a long dead corpse trapped in hell. I'm the one who dug up your bones, brought them back to the basement and spoke the summoning ritual. "

Saunders watched the hogtied man fight for some semblance of control over his fear and was reminded of the man he had faced earlier. Most unusual auras came from them, not the classical 'scream and die victims' he had dealt with before. They radiated far too much confidence for it to be natural.

Studying the man's ruddy features his eyes narrowed not liking the idea of anyone daring to keep him bound.

Thin boney fingers grabbed Murdoch's chin digging into flesh and a gargled cry came from the man.

Tutting in disgust the ghost looked seriously none too impressed with his latest plaything, "You know you're not even remotely pretty. In fact you are so ugly that I'd be doing the world a favour in getting rid of your ugly butt."

Murdoch realising the ghost's intention swallowed back a cry of alarm, all the while cursing Dean Winchester for stripping him of his control over the creature. "No man listen you need me. Need me to protect you from that bastard Winchester before he toasts your bones and sends you back to hell."

Saunders felt a brief moment of fear run through digesting the truth of the man's words. The man earlier had held a strange power over him.

Crouching down again he was virtually nose to nose with the hunter, his fetid brother causing the man to gag as he spat out, "Need you? We'll see about that. Firstly you will tell me everything about this 'ritual' that brought me back and what my dried up bones have to do with it all. And you best hurry before I start sucking the marrow from your deliciously fresh bones."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

After being hauled back to his feet Sam refused to acknowledge the dizziness or nausea that made his swim and his stomach clench. He had to make this good for his brother. As he watched his brother soften with the older woman he felt a moment of relief, the gruffness of early vanishing, perhaps stoked in part for his concern for his friend he had left behind.

Realising his one success of the night could be good news he leant tiredly onto Dean's shoulder for support and whispered with a soft smile on his pale sweaty face, "S'okay, you don't have to worry about anyone one else. I got him out for you, you can finish this up later."

"Got who out?" queried Dean as he steadied his brother, wincing at the sight of the blood soaking fresh through his shirt at his side and fought back the urge to put him over his shoulder and just do a runner.

"Your buddy Ben." Sam's knees buckled slightly and he took the tightening grip on his wrist by his brother to be that of support to keep him upright, not sensing the fury washing over Dean.

"You dragged him out all busted up like this? Are you fucking stupid?" Dean turned his brother around to face him wondering at what he knew about the other hunters plans for him. "Did Anderson tell you what happened?"

Sam blinked in confusion wondering why his brother was so mad at him again, then remembered what the older hunter had said about Dean making a choice to leave his friend behind to find him, "Yeah, said that you had to leave him behind to save my sorry butt…"

The grip on his wrist tightened even further as Dean stilled besides him and Sam thought it was just his brother's way of keeping him from falling flat on his face.

He wasn't expecting to be yanked forwards as his brother grabbed a fistful of his shirt and spat out furiously at him, "Stop it Sam. Goddam just stop doing this. You got out of this place so why the fuck did you come back in? Its not like I needed your help."

Sam screwed up his face puzzled battling against the continued throb in his head and now his brother's annoyance. What did his brother want from him here? Did he really expect him to just leave him alone in this building with a crazy ghost? "I'm supposed to watch your back…"

Dean couldn't stop his pent up guilt from pouring out and shoved the amulet under his brother's nose and said words that he instantly regretted as he saw his brother's hurt flash in his eyes. "Got all the protection I need. I had Casper under control."

Shaking his head Sam felt sucker punched. His brother had never needed him. "So I screwed up again, right? Is that what your saying?"

Dean trembled slightly, knowing the anger he was venting was because half of him was thankful that Sam was none the wiser about what Murdoch had planned for him but the other half was appalled that Anderson had managed to fill his brother's head with another string of lies.

Laughing harshly Dean shook his head trying to lighten the mood and failing miserably, "Some fucking psychic you've turned out to be letting a psycho ghost get the drop on you and all is what I'm saying."

Taking his brothers' reaction to heart, Sam soaked up the hostility and rejection coming from his brother and instantly the emotional walls of protection went up.

Peeling Dean's hand away from his shirt he took a step away and drew himself up taller ignoring the way his vision swam, "You can bitch about this later but I promised to get her out of here."

Beryl had barely heard Dean's ranting her eyes darting around desperately to make sure that the apparition from before didn't return. All she wanted was out of this place and couldn't understand why the older man was so suddenly pissed with his brother.

Dean went to grab at his brother again muttering his name but Sam evaded his touch and instead gripped Beryl's forearm asking the clearly shocked woman, "You okay? You sure I didn't hurt you?"

When she shook her head the tears started again and Sam sighed, "Come on then. Lets go. Like I said earlier my brother has it all sorted."

"Oh for Christ sake," called out Dean after him, "You can barely walk never mind get this poor woman out of here. Saunders could finish what he started…."

Sam turned cold eyes on him. "You don't need my help remember, she does."

"I never said that," barked out Dean to the back of Sam's head and snatched at his brother again determined to not let him go like this.

He had to make this right. Get Sam to safety and away from the mess he had dropped them all into. Knowing that Anderson was also out there once again, adding more danger to the mix only helped to heighten his fears.

As his brother manhandled him around the pain in his side intensified and the world went grey. All Sam wanted to do was cling to his brother and ask him to stop being angry with him just this once because it hurt so frigging much. Instead though he pulled away again and struggled just to breathe through the hot shooting pains stabbing at him again.

A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his face again, and the dizziness increased. 'Yeah perhaps his brother was right again.' he thought bitterly as he tried to focus on the woman in front of him. 'Can't even get her out of here.'

Sam didn't hear his brother's voice choke on his name, didn't feel the chill return to the air or hear the small cry of alarm from the Bowden woman as Saunders reappeared with a familiar appliance in hand. All he knew was that the ground seemed intent on racing up to meet him again as he lost his ability to keep his balance.

For once luck played its part in his favour for as he travelled forwards the swish of the nails flying through the air went overhead, past his falling form. Dean didn't have time to stop his ungainly fall instead he swung back to the ghost and fired both barrels at him.

Saunders howled in disbelief as the purity of the salt tore through him, bringing back the memory of what real pain was like. The nail gun fell to the floor as his body lost its form exploding outwards in a debris of dark snaking smoke.

Dean quickly reloaded his gun and turned back to his fallen brother. Beryl crouched down by his prone form gently trying to shake him back awake. "Come on Sam. Please."

"Not again," huffed Dean as he saw his brother's from lying at his feet on the hard concrete floor, "You're gonna need to start wearing a safety helmet at this rate kiddo."

Sam for his part felt hands pulling him up, yanking him back to his feet even when his eyes refused to open. He heard the heavy grunt from his brother as he draped him over his shoulder followed by the weird sensation of being carried in a strange disjointed run towards the exit. And all he could think of was yet again it was left to his big brother to save the day from his mess.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Murdoch flexed stiff muscles, ignoring the sting of the cuts left on his wrists and ankles now that he was free of the wire. Saunders had literally torn the bindings off him on his return, spitting dark mutterings about visiting on a certain hunter a whole catalogue of mortal hurts.

Face creased in an appreciative smile he was willing to let the ghost lead the way to the basement. He was clearly mad that was apparent but if he led him back to Dean Winchester and the amulet he might just be able to salvage the mess of this stupid hunt.

Over his long years of hunting he had learnt enough to bind his time. Both Saunders and Dean would be back under his control soon enough. If he got back down to the basement before Dean did then all was still salvageable. Protecting Saunders bones was his number one priority here.

The pyromaniac qualities of Dean Winchester had to be stopped at all costs as he was really looking forwards to seeing what Saunders would do to oldest Winchester boy when free of the amulet.

'Yep.' he chuckled happily to himself as he chased after the speeding ghost. 'Might even get another chance to play with the youngest Winchester in the process.

'All in all a win-win scenario,' he reasoned. 'As long as the loopy bastard Saunders didn't screw things up.'

Happy with the turn of events he felt confident that finally the Winchesters were really going to understand what it cost to cross someone with the last name of Murdoch.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

_**Again as always feedback welcome. **_


	6. Chapter 6

_All usual disclaimers apply. Again all those in your face mistakes are all mine! And to one and all big thanks for such lovely reviews for the last chapter. This is really a teaser for the next chapter to come when all sorts of hell for the brothers really does breaks loose! Rozzy_

**Becoming too Visible**

**Part 6: Swallowed the Blarney stone whole**

_Sam went with the sensation of floating liking the freedom it gave his once heavy limbs. It reminded him of the time he had spent years gone by on a long heat-soaked day on lake in Minnesota when he was eight._

_The tepid waters had kept him afloat as he drifted on his back, idly dreaming away the moment as the sun kissed his skin and his long hair floated back with the gentle current._

_It really had felt like he was on a bed of clouds that rolled him gently along on marshmallow puffs whispering that this was what his future would bring. That the constant threat of evil and the darkness that their dad whispered on about still felt more unreal than real. Just whispers._

_The whole day had held a magical quality that had become so burnt into his small treasury of wonderful that it had never been forgotten._

_It had given him one day of childhood when his dad played silly games with him and Dean, a few golden hours when they all breathed easy and just for a brief slippage in time the hunting and the need behind it was forgotten._

_Disturbingly it had give him a taste of one day of normal and from that moment he had dared to dream of more. The need to have more than he ever got._

_To dream of little league baseball, hot salty popcorn and hotdogs and an unnatural yearning for a permanent home._

_Of never having to worry about what was inside the closet because there was no such things as big hairy monsters with razor sharp teeth that needed blasting with a .45 handgun that his little fingers found so hard to fire._

_All he knew for those few brief hours as he lay floating on his back cradled in the warm waters was that most little boys knew that the only monsters to be found were in story books and in the dreams of sleep. So why couldn't he pretend just for a while longer. Pretend normal._

_So as the outside voices dared to penetrate the lapping waters that kept him afloat with happy memories Sam Winchester ex Stanford student and pre Law major resolutely refused to listen._

_That growling voice calling out his name would just have to wait a little bit longer as he remembered what true happiness had felt like so many years ago, and just for a while longer he could keep the monsters of real life at bay_.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Adrian Murdoch had for most of his life counted himself a lucky man and tonight had proved no exception. After all losing the amulet to that bastard Winchester should have proved lethal, but like his mother always said he had not just kissed the Blarney stone but had swallowed it whole at birth. His motor mouth had got him out of trouble this time round with that maniac Saunders that he had conjured up.

So with the luck still running for him it was easy for Murdoch to ignore his cousin's body swinging garishly in the half-light, happy at just being alive. Gil after all never had much luck at the best of times and it really wasn't his fault if the stupid kid didn't listen to orders. Should have kept his skinny ass in the van and then none of this screw up would have happened.

Murdoch dismissing the swinging corpse from his thoughts with ease, conscience already cleansed of any blame, continued in his race down the stairs towards the basement.

Sourly he knew that the wily older Winchester would have put it all together by now and could already be searching the dank basement area for the bones. After all he had let his big mouth runaway from him earlier literally pinpointing the location of where Saunders had killed himself.

Sweating profusely his shirt stuck to plump frame by the time he reached the final step to the basement. Wheezing he bent over, hands on knees, and tried to drink in snatches of much needed air, his throat burning longing for an ice cold drink.

When the sound of a loud gunshot resonated down the shaft quickly followed by a high pitched scream Murdoch's senses were brought back on high alert. Listening with a practised ear he knew the scream was not made by anything human and guessed his newly raised spook had just had his hide peppered with buckshot by a certain pissed off hunter.

That bastard Dean Winchester really did have a knack to piss off the dead as much as the living it seemed.

The thought of having to face a angry smarting unstable Saunders without any protection made him hurry forwards, pushing past a series of heavy doors that led him to the start of a labyrinth of corridors that run under the building.

He paused for a second trying to get his bearings and listened for a familiar sound. The drip-drip of water pinging on the concrete floor up ahead to the right gave him his direction. Flicking on his flashlight he went in a half run down the dimly lit corridor towards his goal.

Underfoot he could see that the ground had remained undisturbed and he smiled in satisfaction. He had beaten that cocky little bastard Winchester down here so it seemed.

Picking up his pace he reached the heart of the basement. The boiler room's old metal door was already hanging on half hinges so that when he kicked it ajar the loose fitting door tottered free to hit the wall with a loud clang to rest there.

The walls were mossy and damp and the lingering presence of something evil still hung to taint the air. It was a room that vibrated out bad times gone by but Murdoch was immune to such disquiets. All he wanted now was to add the room's violent history.

Eyeing his homemade altar of an upturned orange crate he smirked in satisfaction on seeing that Saunders bones had remained untouched.

If Adrian Murdoch had any empathic qualities at all he might have felt a shudder ripple up his spine but all he could feel was a small thrumming thrill inside of him as he eyed his prize. The bones were his way at getting back at the Winchesters allowing him to deal with them once and for all.

Eagerly he reached down under the box and pulled out a small rucksack that had been stashed away earlier. Gils now silenced voice echoed briefly in his head. 'Hey Ade best keep this here for back up. Just in case yer know with those Winchester brats?'

The heavy glock first out the bag felt reassuringly good in his sweaty hand and he deftly rechecked the chamber to make sure it was fully loaded. Slipping it into his waistband he hurriedly sprinkled salt and lighter fluid over the bones. He needed some insurance that if Saunders returned too pissed off to listen to reason then all it would take was flick of a match to get rid of him in one all mighty whoosh of flames.

Although his fingers itched to burn the crazy bastards remains but he knew that the ghost was still of use. Especially if he was guessing correctly he was proving enough of the distraction to the Winchester brothers to keep them off their game.

With Dean distracted he'd be none the wiser that he was now free and now it was all just a matter of time before they came to him. Cradling his gun he slunk back into a recessed corner of the room, hiding behind an ancient water tank watching patiently the doorway for his prey to appear.

Enjoying the solid weight in his hand he coolly thought out his attack. He'd take the youngest out first with a shot to he head. He was too much of an unknown a quantity to do muck about with especially if all those stories about him being some psychic freak were true.

After the youngest brother was dealt with he'd take down that arrogant bastard brother of his. A gut shot should get him out of commission pretty damn fast. Not kill him out right as after all he wanted him to experience the joys of trussed up like a turkey with a homicidal spook threatening to cut out his tongue before chewing on his fingers one at time first. Then and only then might he be generous enough to bullet into the back of his skull.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Struggling under his brother's dead weight all he wanted was to get them to the main exit. Once out the building he could check Sam over properly and then hope to start to make things right again between them.

The small woman as long as she stuck by his side was safe enough, but she didn't rate high on his list of priorities to keep his focus anywhere but on his brother. All he wanted was to keep his word to his dad to keep his brother safe and get him the hell away from this mess that he had dragged him in to.

Beryl still close to crumbling with shock stumbled slightly over the uneven floor and Dean heard her cry out in alarm and felt himself taking an unexpected step backwards with her.

Frowning he threw her a sideways glance as she steadied herself again, noting the pinched expression of fear on her face but had no words of comfort for her right now.

His eyes narrowed when he clocked how desperately she was clinging to his brother's hand, using it as an anchor to drag her along with them and realised why he had been forced back a step,

Sounding harsher than he intended Dean gave her a purposeful look, "You might want to let go next time you start to take a tumble lady, as I don't want my brother going head first to smack into more floors."

"Oh," whispered out Beryl desperately still not willing to let go, "I'm sorry. He just makes me feel safer…"

Nodding Dean turned face forwards again, blinking through the sweat dripping from his brow into his eyes. "Jeez Sammy what a time to become a chick magnet."

As a gust of air blew in from the outside cold and refreshing he gave a thankful exhale as the large framed doorway to the outside world came into view.

Adjusting his brother slightly over his shoulder he took a long steadying breath and wondered if this was how Sam had felt as he took Anderson out earlier. Eyeing the way out a sense of relief went through him. The thought of getting him to safety felt so good after a long day of failures.

Patting a hand over his brother's backside he laughed out happily, "What did I tell you sleepyhead, things are starting to look up again for the Winchesters."

Fate, jester that it was, must have just waiting for him to speak that ridiculous upbeat line as the doors ahead of him slammed shut with a resounding clang and the foyer was thrown into total darkness.

"You have got to be kidding me," he groaned in disbelief wondering if the name Winchester was really cursed like Sam sometimes hinted at.

Beryl screamed in utter terror as the lights went out and ran in a crashing bump into the back of Dean. Her voice was shrill as she tried to remain on her feet, "Oh my god. He's coming back isn't he? He'll kill us all."

Growling out a warning Dean griped tighter on to his brother not wanting to add more damage done by dropping him now and spat out tersely, "Look lady you've got to stop panicking. NOW. Stop flapping and keep quiet till I can sort this out."

Beryl's gulping back another sob managing to freeze under Dean's harsh instructions, eyes screwed shut to block out the darkness and unseen terrors, her fingers looped in a tight cinch around Sam's still fingers.

When she felt them being pulled away from her grip she whimpered in alarm. Dean spoke up quickly as he felt her tug desperately back on her brother's hand, "No. Like I said earlier you need let go of him as I need to put him down to see what's going on."

Feeling blindly with an outstretched hand Dean touched bare brickwork and lowered Sam down against the cold wall. Grabbing from the back of his waistband his flashlight Dean stood over his slumped brother in a protective stance and flicked on the light.

On losing contact with Sam's warm fingers Beryl had stood rock still barley able to dare breathe but as Dean pointed the torch in her direction grateful exhale escaped as the light burnt through her shut eyelids orange and she dared to have hope again.

Dean threw her an assessing look. The panic was still clearly there as her chest rose and fell too rapidly but he could see her struggling to get it under control and his voice softened as he asked, "You okay now?"

When she wordlessly nodded he pointedly ignored the silent spill of tears fresh on her cheeks again and swung the flashlight around in a sweep of the ground floor.

Chewing on his bottom lip he wondered what Saunders had planned for them next. The power of the amulet only afforded them so much protection and in a wide-open space like this the ghost could pick any point of entry to attack them.

Reaching out to the woman he steered her over to his brother and she sunk gratefully down next down to Sam propping her back against the wall. Dean patted her knee wanting to keep her distracted from her fears, "Stay with my brother while I check the doors. Please."

It only took a few strides to reach the heavy oak doors but he knew before he even tried to pull them open that they would remain shut, nixed he knew by a way too powerful spirit.

The air turned blue for a few seconds as he ranted out his disgust knowing they were going nowhere fast. All the ground floor windows for security reasons had been boarded up, except for a couple way towards the back of the building. Shaking his head Dean was all too aware that it was too far a journey in the dark to take his brother on with Saunders readying to play his deadly games again.

Sucking in a calming breath he knew he had to find another way to get them out of this mess and slowly rechecked the foyer.

Beryl watched in growing desperation as the torch highlighted spots around the large open plan space biting down new fears as shadow jumped out at them, her hand curled tightly once again into Sam's long fingers for reassurance.

Dean came back to his brother, felt for his pulse and found it steady but fast and tried to rouse him, "Come on dude you wanna wake sometime soon and give me a hand here in rescuing the pretty girl?"

Beryl pinked slightly at the compliment and squeezed Sam's hand harder when for a moment he stirred. Muttering something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like his brother's name his lips but disappointedly stilled again and his eyes failed to open.

Dean shook him again daring to hope that his brother was rousing but instead his bloodied head lolled back onto his chest giving him his answer that Sam was not going to be able to walk out of this one.

Dean carefully pushed back a wet strand of hair dangling over Sam's warm forehead nodding his understanding, that his brother's body had been pushed to far into short a time and was simply protecting itself by shutting down. "Okay kiddo, you rest up. I'll play hero for a while now."

Beryl threw him a look of surprise at his soft tone and could swear that even in the darkness his eyes were bright under the threat of tears. Alarmed she asked, "You're scared that we won't be able to get out of here."

Dean's face hardened for a brief second before softening enough to throw her a killer smile, "Hey lady we've been in worse situation than this. Trust me you'll be okay. We all will be."

He didn't add where or when they had been in such serious trouble before as his mind was seriously trying to remember the last time he had been locked inside a building with a homicidal spirit and a half comatose battered little brother. Worst still it was a serial killer ghost that had already voiced his intent to play a little bit more with his brother.

'Freaking ghost is really proving to be an over achiever in the spooks business', cursed out Dean under his breath more than a little disturbed at how easily Saunders had gotten the hang of using his supernatural powers under control.

Casting another eye around the large open area he gave up a small thanks to whatever Gods might be watching their sorry backsides as he spotted a half open door. Enough light from his torch scored through the opening to show a small room beyond.

Hauling Sam back over his shoulder he nodded over to Beryl, "Okay change of tactics. You up to a spot of babysitting?"

Beryl looked up in open puzzlement, "Babysitting?"

"Yep. I need to sort out our pesky poltergeist pest once and for all and I need you to watch my baby brother's back while he takes his little nap."

He didn't wait for a response expecting her to agree and Beryl jumped hastily to her feet as Dean started walking away with Sam's too long frame perched awkwardly over his shoulder. As she raced to his side she reconnected with Sam's hand again and felt the heat radiating off him, chasing away the chill of her own fingers.

On reaching the half open door Dean nudged it with his foot and it swung back on creaking hinges. Torchlight picked out the small unfurnished room and Dean exhaled his thanks. It was the perfect bolthole to leave his brother in.

The faded décor and musty damp smell made Dean's top lip lift in disgust but he didn't allow that to stop him from gently laying his brother down again in the centre of the room. Using his jacket as a pillow he propped Sam's head on it checking his pupils thankful that both seemed reactive enough. As he checked the gash on his scalp he decide to leave the wound alone as it was slowly clotting and no longer freely bleeding.

Sam for his part curled onto his good side instinctively away from the wounds that scored the right side of his body but still stubbornly refused to wake up. Dean lifted up the sticky shirt again and skirted fingertips over the scoring wounds again not liking how red and puffy the edges now appeared.

Shrugging out of his shirt he wrapping it in a tight bandage around Sam's torso as a barrier from all the filth around them. As he knotted the sleeves together a soft hiss of pain escaped from Sam and Dean paused, resting a hand of comfort on his brother's shoulder, "Sorry Sammy. Must hurt like a bitch I know but its gotta be done."

Eyes flickered open for a second and Dean smiled down at him hoping for some response but there was no focus and heavy lids shut equally as fast. Sighing his disappointment Dean rocked on his haunches, "Its okay kiddo. Rest up. I'll fix this. I promise."

When there was no further response from his brother Dean looked down at his busted arm and couldn't stop a wince of sympathy flash across his face. The metal nails were firmly imbedded and he didn't even think of trying to pull any of them out. That he already decided would be best left to the professionals.

Remembering the fiasco of how his brother got the cast put on in the first place he shook his head sadly all the more determined to be with him when he had the new one put on. That much he could do right for his brother he told himself fiercely.

For a few seconds he studied his sleeping brother, hating the sight of blood marring his pale features and the thin sheen of sweat that spoke of a fever to come. The only comfort he could feel was that despite everything Sam was breathing easy and his pulse though still fast was steady.

"Will he be okay?" asked a timid voice behind. "He looks so pale"

Dean turned his head around and saw the slim woman looking down at Sam with such motherly concern. "He's a Winchester ma'am. He'll be fine."

Reaching out a hand to Beryl he pulled her easily down to sit with his brother. He knew he needed her help if he was going to have any chance of searching out Saunders bones. "Look I know your scared but my brother needs you to keep it together. We both do. Can you do that?"

Gulping Beryl nodded weakly back her understanding as Dean handed her his brother's torch, wiping with the back of her other hand the tears away. "Please I need to know what sort of thing could do this, to your brother, to my Ray? This isn't supposed to be possible…."

"Yeah I'm sorry. I know. It shouldn't be real but you've seen it for yourself. You know it is. Just don't let that dead bastard win."

"My Ray…" Beryl rocked silently as she thought on her dead husband. "He was such a good honest man. Why?"

Dean stood up abruptly not wanting to deal with such naked grief and Beryl's eyes followed after him as he pulled from his backpack a large sack of salt. Without a word he started a circle of salt around them, before adding a line by inside the doorway and outside the door too.

"What are you doing?"

Dean cocked her look as if it was plainly clear to understand, "Putting some protection around you both from that psycho ghost. It acts like a barrier that he can't cross…. "

"Salt?"

"Best goddam ghost repellent that you can buy over the counter," grinned back Dean at her clearly stunned expression of disbelief.

Noting her confusion he quickly added, "Look I got to go burn the scumbag's remains. My guess they'll be in the basement where he killed himself."

"Burn his body?" Beryl visibly paled, "You're gonna leave us here alone…"

Noting the look of panic on her face Dean confessed. "Not for long I promise. Look it's the best way to get rid of our unwanted houseguest. If you just stay within the circle you should be safe."

Beryl's voice squeaked higher in alarm. "Should be safe?" The thought of facing the ghost on her own more than just terrified her.

Dean paused realising that she was on the verge of losing it and reached out and squeezed her hand. "Look you will be okay. I promise. If that freak does return just use Sam's gun. It will repel him."

"Like before, when you shot it?" Beryl shivered involuntary remembering the effects of Dean shooting the ghost earlier.

"Yep - screamed like a little bitch didn't he?" grinned back Dean and Beryl gave him a weak smile in return trying to feed off his confidence but still felt desperately scared.

Squatting down besides them he gave his brother one final check and sighed, "Okay, if he wakes tell him to keep his butt in here and not do anything foolish. I still have this."

When Beryl frowned he waived the amulet at her, "Think of this as my personal four-leaf clover and ghost-proof vest all rolled into one. Just stay in here and I'll be back sooner rather than later to get you both out."

Beryl nodded her understanding but it didn't stop her flinching as she felt the heavy weight of Sam's gun being placed in her lap.

Dean wondered if she had ever fired one before and gripped her shoulder in reassurance, "Just point, pull back the trigger and shoot the bastard if he shows up."

"You will be coming back?" Beryl looked up him desperate for the confirmation that she wasn't being left behind in this nightmare world.

Dean paused and cast a concerned look at his still out of it brother before nodding in reassurance, "You betcha. Someone has to keep his sorry ass out of any more trouble."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Bobby Singer face wore a deepening scowl as he raced down the thankfully deserted highway. He was still trying to digest the garbled phone call that now had him in pursuit of the Winchester boys and their latest hunt.

Ben Anderson had hardly made any sense at all, rambling incoherently about a job gone wrong and all he could make out was that it had left Johnny's boys in a whole world of trouble. Again.

Eyeing his speedometer he pushed harder down on the gas pedal a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whatever that idiot Anderson had left the brothers facing on their own couldn't be good.

For all his insular ways he had always tried to judge people on their merits. But with Anderson there had always been something downright shifty about the man that just rubbed him the wrong way.

He could never quantify it or put his finger exactly on the reasons why he instinctively distrusted his fellow hunter but the plain fact was that he would rather go to bed with a rattlesnake than pass the time of the day with the likes of Anderson.

To his ears the man was too fond of the sound of his own voice which was more often fuelled by too many tequila. Anderson he had always suspected was not only a danger to himself but to those around him and now it looked like he had bitten off more than he could chew dragging Sam and Dean with him.

As he shifted in his seat he switched on the radio trying to get away from the dark thoughts racing in his mind. Then the mournful twang of Patsy Cline vocals filled the cab which just helped reinforce all that he was trying to forget and his fingers snatched at the off button sighing with relief with the sudden silence.

As he turned off the final exit the smell of rubber gripping the tarmac drifted through the cabin but he didn't slow down. Whatever Anderson had gotten those boys into couldn't be good.

But he if he as honest was more surprised by Dean. After Walker he would have thought that he would have dragged his brother away from all those other paranoid hunters out there. Hunters who could sniff out a trace of supernatural as easily as smelling Starbucks as they headed into a new town. Yet here the older Winchester was doing another job with another hunter. Another hunter who might not see Sammy they way they did.

Growling his disgust Bobby went ever faster, wondering just when or where Dean would get his brother killed or when Sam would allow it to happen. Both Winchester boys were self destructing and why was it he was the only one who could see it?

Clenching his steering wheel Bobby ground his teeth anew enamel wearing thin.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Aiming at the door Saunders fired another round into it but still there was no response from those within. He knew they were there but they were proving frustratingly quiet.

All in all this was proving as annoying as hell, and he should know having spent the last seven decades there. Literally.

Through the wooden door he could literally feel the woman's heart beating way too fast in her chest cavity as terror held her in sway, but he could also sense Sam's heartbeat thumping strongly behind the barrier, calm and way too controlled.

Howling his disappointment he longed to lap up the warmth of his blood again and tear the intestine from his gut to run cold fingers through them as they slipped out like a steaming pile of slippery sausages. But here he was yet again being kept away from his pretty young prize and all the damage that cried out to be done to him. It was just so not right.

Growling his disgust he listened out for his arrogant older brother and could vaguely feel his strong heartbeat in the bowels of the building. The older man was proving to be a real pest, more than just an irritant that really did need to be sorted out once and for all. Either by his hand or by the other hunter.

Irritably still wanting to get back to Sam he thumped his fists loudly on the door feeling it rattle under his touch but it remained firmly closed. A small ongoing prayer could be heard coming from the woman within and he laughed cruelly, "Pray away bitch, but that's not gonna help you when I slice the skin from your face."

Hissing his annoyance when he got no response he took a step back eyeing the barrier on the ground that stopped him from pushing further. Sniffing closer to the floor he cocked an eyebrow in surprise noting the familiar taint that had scored through him earlier when Dean had fired at him. It flared in his nostrils. Bitter and acrid and hurt like acid eating away at flesh.

Standing up again the ghost visibly coalesced as the anger tore through him, "Salt ain't gonna stop me. You hear me. Not gonna stop the likes of me. I'll hear your screams loud and clear soon enough Sam. Loud and clear."

Beryl curled her arms over her head as the ghost behind the door continued his litany of abuse, the continued prayer on her lips her only vocal comfort.

She couldn't stop a cry of worry when the hit of metal piercing wood resumed again following the ghost's rant. For a few minutes the wooden door was peppered with metal nails till spent the nail gun was thrown away to clutter to the ground.

The loud clatter made her jump slightly as she cradled the gun in her hands believing all the while that she just wasn't strong enough to deal with this insanity.

As the gravely voice teased her from the other side of the door she drew her legs up under her chin in a tight hug shaking her head in denial and found her voice,. "Please just leave us alone."

"You know who it is I really want. Come on you stupid woman best open the door now or I'll rip your heart out nice and slow later and shove it still beating down your throat and I'll make our pretty boy Sam watch as I do it."

"Yeah you wish freaking sicko," snapped back a voice that made Beryl's heart stutter in relief.

Sam slowly raised his head off her lap and looked around, curiosity winning over as his swimming vision took in the faded art deco decoration around the small room before noting the circle of salt around them. "Hey freak looks like my brother has you bangs to right."

"Sam…?" whispered Saunders longingly against the door. "You wanna ditch the snivelling creature and play some more with me."

"Nope. Been there done that so you can go screw yourself asshole," snapped back Sam as he tried to raise himself off the ground as he became fully conscious again.

Beryl allowed his body to prop up against hers and he threw her a small smile despite the overwhelming need to crawl back into her lap and go back to sleep.

Gasping at Sam's verbal rudeness Jeremy Saunders face went a livid red with fury. "My what a bad mouth we have young man, just like your brother."

"Surprise but you really are such a cretin. Didn't you know that Dean taught me everything I've ever needed to know on dealing with freaks like you…." growled back Sam with pride.

Black eyes looked up to the ceiling and vicious smile stretched his thin lips. What he needed was some new power tools to play around with and get him into that room, "Listen sonny I'll be back soon. We can discuss your means of punishment for such a lewd mouth then."

"Piss off and stay gone," spat back Sam as he mouth went dry and the room spun alarmingly and any bravado disappeared as his head fell back into Beryl's lap.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean shuffled on his tummy away from the altar that he had just newly discovered wondering why his head felt so ridiculously fuzzy.

That hadn't been Saunders smacking his head so hard that stars were turning into a cluster galaxy as he tried to breathe through the pain and shock of having his skull nearly torn in two. Had it?

It just hadn't looked dead enough to be the spirit as the corner of his eye tried to catch a glimpse of his attacker. The thing was just too frigging solid. Too bloody familiar.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Bobby drew up beside the old postal office and his face fell open as he saw the sickly orange glow flickering through boarded up windows. The whole place was a blaze and judging from the Impala still parked up outside of the burning the building the boys were still inside.

o0o0o0o0o0o 

_**TBC**_

_Okay long wait in the update I know, but me and a wall and seriously gravity made it really difficult to type for awhile as my shoulder was thrown out of whack! Feedback welcomed!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Again usual disclaimers apply and all mistakes are very much of my own making, including the violence and the fruity language. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up and posted but torn ligaments are such a bitch to type with! Once again thanks for such positive reviews and I will get back to you all to say my thanks were possible. Rozzy.**_

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 7: Think I might have really pissed him off.**

_Leading up to just how that pesky fire took hold of the building as Bobby drove up….._

Adrian Murdoch sucked in an angry intake of air at seeing only the one Winchester slide silently into the boiler room.

A frisson of anger burned inside as he watched the dark blond haired hunter assess the room and its fixtures with a clinical eye and he pressed further back into the shadows not wanting to make his move till the younger brother turned up.

When after a few moments Sam was a no show he ground his teeth in annoyance. It looked like Dean was intending on playing hero all on his lonesome. Stupid Winchesters never did know how to play the game as expected he thought bitterly.

Murdoch cradled the gun in his hand and itched to put a bullet in the gut of the man standing so cocksure in the doorway. But it was the absence of the younger brother that kept that urge in check. After everything that had gone wrong on this job he was determined the youngest Winchester was not going to slip through his fingers.

Thinking on the boy his top lip twitched. If it had been his kith and kin he would taken him out straight away. No question. No hesitation. None of this pathetic pussyfooting around to see what happened next. A bullet between the eyes was what was needed to rid the world of the psychic spawned freak

Watching from his hidden viewpoint he waited patiently for Dean to reach the bones and he couldn't keep back a small hiss of satisfaction when he stooped down to inspect the altar.

Dean grunted his satisfaction at seeing the bones. Saunders was as good as gone he told himself, and his brother was going to be all the safer for it. As he bent over the bleached remains his nose scrunched up as the familiar tang of fresh lighter fuel wafted up and he cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

The warning bells went off in his head that something wasn't quite right and he stood up in a rush. It was nanosecond too late as Murdoch for such a large man moved swiftly out of the shadows. Swinging in a tight arc he connected the butt of his gun against the back of Dean's head.

It was a vicious smack that left Dean stunned and he crumpled to ground his smashing his torch on the concrete.

Groaning Dean tried to rise but the sharp kick to his side rolled him on to his back and he found himself staring up at the man he thought he had had left trussed up as ghost bait only a little while ago.

Murdoch bent over him, gun aimed at his head. "Ain't so bloody cocky now are we Winchester?"

Following through with another well aimed kick to his stomach Murdoch grinned maliciously as Dean curled his body into a protective ball still too stunned to fight back.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

With the room wrapped in an unsettling silence Beryl twitched nervously hardly daring to believe that the monster had gone away. Her fingers dug deep into Sam's shoulder for reassurance and he roused enough to give out a small grunt at the touch.

Looking expectantly down at Sam she saw him squinting up at her with half closed eyes but with a soft smirk on his flushed face, "Think I might have really pissed him off."

Beryl took in a long steadying breath, not knowing whether she wanted to laugh, cry or just scream her relief. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

When he gave a small shrug and started to struggle up again to a sitting position Sam was grateful when Beryl's hands caught at his shoulders to steady him. When the room righted itself and his vision settled he was left with a spiking pain in his skull that just wouldn't quit.

Hissing through the discomfort he gingerly touched his head again and his fingers came away sticky, but he was thankful that the wound was no longer freely bleeding. Wiping his bloodied finger tips down his shirt he noticed the wrap of a foreign shirt around his middle and looked confusedly over at Beryl.

Patting his knee she leant in and adjusted the wrap gently pulling it further up his chest, "Your brother tried to sort you out best he could."

"Oh," he whispered in return shivering slightly despite the heat radiating off him and found himself asking, "You doing okay?"

"No," answered Beryl honestly her chin wobbling. She felt utterly drained as in all her thirty-three years she had never witnessed such horrors that tonight had shown her, "I'm damn scared."

"S'alright, you'll be okay." Sam's quietly insisted but couldn't keep back a grimace as the spike in his head threatened to spilt his skull into two distinct halves.

Beryl head dipped down in defeat. "No it won't be okay. Not ever. That thing killed my husband. It wants to kill us too."

Swallowing back the burn of bile rising up his throat Sam managed to reach his long fingers out to draw her chin up so that her gaze met his, "For your little girl's sake I promise you will get out of here."

There was a few seconds of silence between them but then Beryl teary eyed nodded her head and drew the cuff of her sleeve across her runny nose. The young man in front of her seemed too sincere not to want to believe in him. She had to trust that he would get her out.

Sam grinned back her, dimples on full display, secretly relieved he had managed to string more than a few coherent words together since coming back around.

"Here, you best take this," whispered Beryl shoving the gun eagerly back into Sam's much larger hand. "I think I'm more likely to shoot myself in the foot than hit that thing out there."

"Okay," Sam smiled wanly back at her thinking he'd be lucky to hit an elephant at ten yards never mind a super slippery ghost, especially with the mother of all concussions still trying to win dominance with his scrambled brains.

Eyes flitting round the room he looked back over at Beryl and his words came out in a long drawl, "So… my brother…. where'd he go?

"He said that he had to 'toast the scumbags bones' and then he'd come back", she couldn't keep back a nervous giggle as the absurdity of it all hit home her eyes daring to lock with his, "This is just insane…burning a ghost's bones."

"Yeah. Ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Insane. Gotcha."

Shifting slightly on the floor trying to beat down the waves of pain in his side and head Sam struggled to get his thought processes back on some coherent path. "How long ago did my brother leave?"

"About twenty minutes I think." Beryl looked at him eyes bright with expectation again, "He said he was coming back"

"Dean will. When he gets the job done,"

Sam visibly winced at the pull on his side as he levered his tall frame back onto his feet, good hand braced against a wall to stop him from falling.

Tight little breaths escaped as he tried to ignore how the room spun or how the throbbing intensified in his head on standing. Finally as he steadied his face set in grim determination and he risked the two long strides over to the door.

Beryl jumped up in alarm frightened that he was about to leave her too, "No, no, Sam you have to stay in here. Your brother said not to do anything foolish."

Sam snorted his disbelief shaking his head despite the pain it brought, "Is that what he said? This whole freaking day has been one long catalogue of foolish mistakes."

"But it's not safe to go out there. Please!" gasped out Beryl, pulling him back urgently away from the door.

He twisted his tall frame to tower over here, his eyes blinking away the disorientation at the movement. "I just can't sit on my butt and do nothing. Dean might need my help."

"No. He has that necklace thing to keep him safe. He showed it to me…"

Sam's face twitched at the memory. Of his brother's harsh words earlier laced with enough anger behind them to let him know he never needed his help.

Reluctantly Sam nodded his defeat, "Yeah…he doesn't need me to make things worse. Got the message loud and clear."

Beryl sighed her relief as Sam leant back against the wall and slid slowly down on to the floor. Settling herself down next to him she nudged him gently with her shoulder, "How long do you think he'll be?"

"It's a big building but at least he doesn't have me to slow him down. Best make yourself comfortable."

Taking that as her cue Beryl laid her head on his shoulder and despite the heat burning off him she able to draw fresh comfort from the contact. Her voice came out muffled as she rambled, "This doesn't seem real. But with you and your brother is just seems so matter of fact…. as if you do this every day."

Sam shrugged fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to ward of another bout of discomfort and whispered out an admission, "Its what we were raised to do."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Murdoch aimed another kick at the body on the floor, a smile of satisfaction on his face as the man gave a small exhale of pain, curling away from the kick. "What Deannie baby? Don't like when the shoe is on the other foot?"

Dean gritted his teeth as the kick jarred the injuries to his ribs further and he struggled to suck in enough breath to stay conscious. Grimly he managed to twist his head around to look up at the larger man and wondered why he hadn't killed the retard earlier.

Sammy he reasoned was proving too much of a conscience for him and he barked out a short bitter laugh of self disgust, baring blood stained teeth up at Murdoch.

Murdoch on seeing the bloodied grin aimed his way snapped out angrily, "You'll not be so fucking happy after I'm through with that little shit you call a brother."

"Go fuck yourself," spat out Dean, silently rattled by the man's threats to his brother. "You stay the hell away from Sam."

Not liking the answer or the defiant look in Dean's eyes Murdoch swore and aimed another kick at Dean as his hatred took over. "I'll have him begging for his life before I blow his brains out of the back of his head."

"You have to find him first dumb ass," hissed back Dean goading the man, knowing how easy it was for Murdoch to get rattled.

Murdoch lost control the moment he let his temper take over. Hating the look of contempt directed his way he viciously tried to stomp on Dean's head but never made contact as two strong hands grabbed up at the descending foot.

Using all his upper body strength Dean wrenched the booted foot around, a dark grin on his face as he heard the crack as the anklebone snapped.

Murdoch howled out his shock as white-hot pain tore through him. Belatedly he tried to shoot Dean but his other leg was yanked from under him and as he fell backwards the bullets he fired struck the ceiling instead.

As his head made contact with the concrete floor there was a sickening thump and he lost his grip on the gun letting it fell to his side. Groggily he tried to pick it up again but an enraged Dean batted it away.

Straddling the now defenceless hunter Dean anger driven threw the first punch to his face.

The powerful blow broke Murdoch's nose afresh and blood spurted out in a dark warming rush. Choking as a slick of mucous and blood fell down his throat he feebly tried to raise his hands to protect himself but Dean smacked them away and punched him again with even greater force breaking his jaw for the second time in his life.

Snarling his fury Dean locked eyes with the terrified hunter, "I warned you that Sam was off limits but you were just too stupid to listen."

Dean kept the punches coming even when Murdoch's head limply rolled with each strike and it was only the nag of his freshly bruising knuckles that made him pause to see the bloody mess he had made of the man's shattered face.

As he eyed the crimson stain on his knuckles he felt no regret for the damage he had done. The bastard had wanted to hurt his brother. His baby brother. Who the hell did he think he was to threaten that?

Drawing away from the broken hunter Dean snatched up the gun off the floor and cocked the trigger.

At the sound of the hammer being draw Murdoch managed to look up through watery eyes and despite his busted jaw managed to stutter out, "Y'gonna ice me just like dat? cold blood?"

"Yep."

Gulping back a sob as the cold muzzle pressed into his chest wall directly over his heart Murdoch knew what defeat felt like and he wasn't too proud to beg. "Gah Dean… please."

"Please the fuck what? You were planning to do this to my brother. Right?"

Spluttering as the blood continued to trickle down his throat Murdoch shook his head, "Ya know why. Ya daddy knew what had to be done."

Dean saw red and all the months of having to keep his father's last words inside him spilled out in a physical rush and he smashed the gun into Murdoch's face, "Don't you dare say that you bastard. Don't you fucking dare."

Crying out his alarm Murdoch tried to protect his face from further damage and he stretched out his hands in front of him trying to placate the enraged man, "No please I've got it. Sam's off limits…."

Swinging viciously again the gun smacked Murdoch on the side of the head and Dean grunted out, "You bet the fuck he is."

His words fell on deaf ears as Murdoch lay unconscious now under him. Disgust rippled over Dean still wanting to killing the man where he lay, but it would have been too quick, to clean a death for the bastard he reasoned.

Drawing himself upright Dean remembered the kicks he had taken earlier and aimed his own between the man's legs and spat out viciously, "Your so gonna be drinking and pissing through a straw both ends you little shit for a long time - if you live through the night."

Ignoring the reminders of his own bruised ribs he turned his attention back to what had drawn him to the room in the first place. The bleached bones looked so inconsequential, so tiny and fragile, that it was hard to believe they belonged to that evil sonofabitch that had hurt his brother and killed two others tonight.

As he approached the crude altar the brittle remains glistened up at him. Coated by a liberal sprinkling of salt and lighter fluid courtesy of the man lying semi dead at his feet he gave a tired grin of thanks. All that was needed now was him to add one small flame to the mix and the whole disastrous day would draw to an end.

Casting a careful eye over the still silent man on the ground he reached into his pocket drawing out a disposable lighter. Clicking on the flame he watched for a second as it grew bright and then dropped the lighter onto the bones.

Stepping back a few paces Dean smiled in relief as the whoosh of flames took hold, eating away hungrily at the meagre offerings. Ridding them all of the threat of the evil little bastard Saunders once and for all he hoped.

The fire quickly ate through to the wooden crate quickly finding the stashed backpack inside it. Eating through the fabric in seconds the flames made contact with the second can of lighter fluid and an almighty hiss erupted and the fire sizzled in warning.

With a new explosive fuel source the fire erupted in a dangerous display of power licking the paint off the ceiling and slithering outwards at a frightening rate.

"Whoa, so not what I was expecting." whistled Dean worriedly stepping away from the growing inferno. Any thought of controlling it had evaporated the moment the flames leap-frogged around the room igniting small pockets of inflammable materials that it touched.

As Dean backed away from the increasing firestorm a scream shocking to his ears made him suddenly freeze. Murdoch had regained consciousness and was struggling to crawl away from the fire, his broken ankle hampering his efforts.

Through the haze of the fire Dean could see him desperately trying to bat away the flames flickering up his legs.

For a shared heartbeat the two hunters eyes met and the hatred Dean felt for the man was forgotten as he watched the man face his fate.

Murdoch looked at him beseechingly, "Please."

Dean swallowed dryly knowing what was being asked of him. He had killed a lot of things in his life but he had always hoped to hesitate when it came to killing a man. Even a man like Murdoch.

Murdoch's previous pleas to stay alive were at odds with the terrible death he now faced. Grey eyes were begging Dean to put an end to it. Before the flames consumed him totally.

Even if had the inclination to save him Dean would have been unable to get past the barrier of flames that bridged the gap between them. Nodding his understanding of what needed to be done he locked eyes with the desperate hunter for the last time and then fired.

The bullet tore through the flames unaltered and Murdoch's head snapped back as the projectile hit true. Watching the man slump back on the ground Dean felt nothing other than it was a quicker death than the man deserved.

The fire did not remain still growing ever more dangerous and Dean had to shield his face from the intense heat. Then his eyes widened in horror on noticing where the fire had travelled to, "Oh you little motherfucker… "

Galvanised into action he raced out of the grim chamber and started in a mad sprint down the long corridor. He barged through the first fire door and raced on to the next with out pause, desperate to put some space between himself and the old oil-fired boiler readying to go bang.

When it went did finally detonate he felt every bone in his body vibrate as he was flung off his feet. Shaking his head a few seconds later he was left wondering just how many lives he had used up to escape the fallout of the boiler going supernova relatively unscathed. Battered and bruised oh yeah but thankfully still very much alive.

'Lucky son of a gun,' he told himself as he wiped the soot and dust off his face and hauled himself up again.

Curious he looked back down the semi-collapsed corridor glimpsing a sickly orange haze and sucked in breath. He took off again, back to the stairs as he had to get back to his brother before the whole freaking building burnt down.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Tiredly Sam wiped his sleeve over his face to mop up the dapple of perspiration on his skin and couldn't hold back a deep sigh of resignation. Yet again he was left on the sidelines waiting for his brother to finish off the job.

What must his brother be thinking of him right now? Perhaps at what useless deadweight he had become? Resting his head against the cool wall he realised that nothing he did had gone right these past few months. Nothing.

As to mock his self-indulgent moment a loud bang came up through the floor shaking loose a heavy blanket of cloying dust and heavy particles into the air. Coughing through the grey haze his mind screamed a warning. The noise was too loud, too combustive to be just a simple burning of bones.

Beryl had shot up straight by his side, eyes saucer wide and a whimper of fear in her throat. "My god what was that?"

Staggering back up he had no answer to give her and instead he pointed the gun at the door and waited. He could hear the hitched breathing behind him of the frightened woman but he kept his eyes firmly locked on the door.

With a sick feeling in his stomach he kept his vigil by the salted doorframe guessing all the while that this night had just slipped from just bad to fucked up insane.

It was the acrid smell drifting from under the door that sent his senses screaming an alert. "Oh shit," he muttered in disbelief.

Would Casper be that crazy to set the place ablaze? Toasting everything including his precious bones in the process. It didn't make sense. None of this whacked out day did.

As if in answer Saunders thin reedy voice teased outside the door, "Damn stupid brother of yours Samuel is really starting to annoy me. You know that, right?"

"Get in line you old goat. You're not the first he's pissed off and you are no way near the top of the list, believe me. Besides I'm guessing this is just his warm up act before he drags your sorry ass back to hell."

"Cocky little show off ain't yer at times? So sure of yer brother and his pyromaniac tendencies but you won't be so lippy when the whole building burns down with you in it."

"Go to hell you freak," spat back Sam trying to disguise his fear as the smell of smoke intensified.

Saunders chuckled enjoying Sam's feistiness, "All I'm saying sonny is that your brother deserves a good spanking for trying to get rid of me like that. A really big whooping that he'll never forget."

"You can't touch him you stupid bastard," growled back Sam and for a few heartbeats it felt like the truth.

Saunders leant against the door and whispered chillingly, "But I can you."

Sam swallowed as the seconds ticked by and there were no further taunts from Saunders. Now the the doubts started to nag away at him. An amulet no matter how powerful wasn't going to protect his brother against natural dangers. That explosions had been too powerful and it might have left his brother hurt, or worse.

Struggling to keep his panic under control he knew he needed answers that he wouldn't find stuck inside this protective cocoon his brother had left him in.

Any misgivings on what to do next evaporated the moment he saw the tendrils of smoke curl under the crack in the door and he grabbed in a rush the door handle, thankful that it was still cool to the touch.

"No," whimpered Beryl as she saw Sam's intention to leave the room. "We can't go out there. "

Sam ignored her and pulled the door open his nostrils flaring as a blanket of thin grey smoke swirled in around his feet. Gun held steady he waited for the ghost to appear but Saunders was gone and his fear for his brother intensified.

Sticking his head out further Sam looked around and his mouth went dry as centre of the floor was pulsating as flames licked up through the semi constructed elevator shaft.

Eyes widening in horror he could see that the fire was taking a firm hold, fed with enough flammable materials on every floor it touched to be uncontrollable.

Purposely Sam grabbed at Beryl's hand, "Come on, we can't stay here. The whole place is going to go up like a tinderbox. I have to get you out now."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The claw hammer felt good in his cold thin fingers, the handle snug in the palm of his withered hand. Nice and heavy it would be heavenly to sink the head into something solid. Something warm. Something squishy.

"Samuel," he whispered in the dark as he searched out his unique heartbeat above the others. "You're so right about your brother and that pisses me off no end believe me. Still you I can touch. I can play with just a little bit longer."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Bobby eyed the unnatural light flitting through the boarded windows and sucked in a terrified breath before swinging hard with the axe. As the metal blade bit into the heavy oak door he heard it start to splinter and he grunted his satisfaction.

Hitting the wood again he called out for the boys but there was no response except for the wood starting to break apart under his attack.

A few more strikes and hopefully the door would break open.

As the axe sunk through the wood again Bobby growled under his breath, wondering just how that slime ball Anderson could leave the boys in a burning building like this. When he got his hands around his worthless neck he wouldn't trust himself not to strangle the bastard.

With one final hefty strike the door's locked shattered and he was able to push it open only to allow thick cloying smoke to pour out.

Using a handkerchief over his mouth and nose to filter out the some of the acrid smoke he dared to enter the smouldering building desperately trying to pick out any signs of the brothers in the semi darkness.

Bobby gave a small prayer of thanks as a familiar figure staggered into view by and he called out, "Dean!"

His head lift up in recognition before he swayed dangerously but Dean stubbornly remained on his feet.

Ignoring the shower of smouldering artefacts raining down from the ceiling Bobby dashed over to Dean wondering why his baby brother wasn't with him. "Where's the hell is Sammy?"

Dean his eyes streaming from the smoke pointed a finger to a small alcove to the west of the open floor space managing to gasp out, "In there."

Bobby never a man of unnecessary words nodded his understanding and raced towards the door. The door was ajar and he could clearly see that room beyond was empty of the youngest Winchester. "He's not here."

"What?" cried out Dean pushing past Bobby his eyes wide in disbelief. Both his brother and the woman were gone. "Oh this is just freaking unbelievable."

Farnborough in all its terror ate away at him again but he refused to think the worse. His sixteen year old brother had proved then that he was hard Winchester to kill and no way was this place going to do what Farnborough couldn't manage. His brother had to be okay.

Maybe he hoped, just maybe, his brother had already made it safely out of the building, and was no doubt being mothered by that woman that seemed so attached to him.

With this hope in mind he didn't try to resist Bobby's firm grip around his waist as he was dragged away back towards the entrance.

In the time it had taken Bobby to get back to the door he had busted through the fire had taken a firmer more destructive hold. Crackling flames were now freely racing through each floor of the building threatening to bring the whole building down on their heads.

As they stumbled out to welcoming fresh air Bobby dared to look back into the inferno praying that Sam had made it out of there by some other escape. There was no chance in hell of them going back in there now to save anyone.

Dean broke free of Bobby's his eyes darting around the grounds for signs of his brother and when there was none the cosy thoughts of him being outside and being gently nursed vanished abruptly.

"Sammy," he hollered out desperately, "Sam…"

Something snapped inside of him when his brother didn't answer and the fears that he had tried to squash before doubled. His brother might still be inside that hellhole and he had left him behind, "Oh shit…."

As he readied to run back into the building Bobby made a grab at him spinning him around by his shoulders. "No boy you can't go back in there. It'd be suicide."

Dean shoved Bobby not liking his honest words and the older man staggered back a step. Grunting his surprise he was still quick witted enough to tackle Dean again as he attempted to race back into the burning building. "No - can't you see it's too late."

As the two struggled on the ground a scream shrill and terror borne stilled them both.

It was clearly a woman's scream and Dean shook himself free of Bobby and jumped back to his feet. "Beryl?" he dared to holler out.

There was another scream and Bobby looked at Dean. "Came from the back of the building."

As one they started to sprint round the brick structure and headed for the back of the old building. Dean hollered out for Beryl again and as he skidded round the final corner he saw her standing underneath a large open window some six foot off the ground looking anxiously up at it.

Her head snapped round, eyes wide with fear before she heard Dean and spun around to meet him, "Please help him. It's got him."

Dean shook his in confusion, "Sammy? Just what the hell has got him?"

"The ghost."

"This can't be happening," gasped out Dean, "I burnt the freaking bones."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam had only just managed to swing Beryl out of the window so that she only had a few feet to drop to the ground below before a familiar presence decided to visit him again.

The freezing drop in temperature was enough of a clue for him to spin around and fire blindly only managing to clip the side of the ghost before he felt himself being yanked backwards.

Backwards and away from the window his only means of escape.

Saunders delight couldn't be contained as he looked down at the bloodied figure, "Like I said I ain't done playing with you yet. Not before the fire eats you up anyways."

Beryl's screaming out his name galvanised Sam into action and he kicked out to make solid contact with the ghost who fell back in surprise.

Hastily Sam rummaged through his pockets for some fresh ammunition but came away empty. With no means to keep the ghost at bay he scuttled backwards desperate to get to the open window before Saunders could touch him again.

The air was becoming too thick to breathe and the destruction of wood and mortar crumbling under the onslaught of the fire at the front of the house was a warning that he was running out of time. Fast.

Hauling himself back on his feet he was only a few yards from freedom but the ghost just wouldn't play nicely and he felt himself being yanked away from the window.

Falling onto his back he blinked dazily up to see Saunders smiling down at him, "Sam my boy you ready to scream prettily for me?"

Sam shook his head tears forming as the smoke stung his eyes. "Screw you."

"Oh come on boy let me end it quickly for you. A good whack to the skull or three. Smash those lovely brains out of that beautiful head of yours. Won't hurt hardly at all…."

Sam got cautiously back to his feet then stilled at seeing something glint in the monster's hand. The heat blistered at his back and he started to hack out a dry cough as the smoke clogged his lung. "You bastard, why don't you just go back to hell?"

"Not until I can take you with me." Saunders cocked his head sidewise at Sam noting how the gun was dangling ineffectively in the tall boy's hand and laughed happily. No more of that nasty salt to sting at him he guessed.

Sam felt the air freeze in front him as the spirit rushed at him and almost sighed his appreciation as the touch was a comforting contrast to the heat of the flames at his back.

In the blink of an eye Saunders was standing on tippy toes before Sam, his eyes bright with the promise of more pain to come. "Gotcha"

Sam knew what was to come and raised his arm defensively as the hammer swung at his head. Trying to stumble away from its touch he was not fast enough to stop the claw hammer tear into his cast.

Sam couldn't stop a scream of agony from escaping as the shock travelled up his damaged arm, vibrating around the metal pins and shattered bone.

"You goddam bitch," he gasped out blinking back his tears of pain and outrage and desperately spun away, the turn enough to angle his body towards the open window.

Saunders hissed his alarm at seeing his prey about to escape and swung viciously once more. Preferring to keep his skull intact more so than his arm Sam allowed it once again to absorb the shattering blow.

As the hammer struck with unnatural force just below the elbow Sam gasped back another cry as the cast started to spilt apart. The only things keeping it adhered to his shattered arm were the nails pinned through it.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean heard Sam before he saw him. His pain filled voice coming from the open window was a welcome sound to his ears as it meant he was still alive. Glancing over the lip of the windowsill he could just make out his hunched over form in the smoke filled room before he was yanked from view by invisible hands.

"Get away from my brother you bastard," growled out Dean in warning as he hauled himself up into open window frame and jumped down on to the smouldering floor.

Saunders stood over his brother hammer raised for a deadly blow and his eyes darkened in fury at seeing Dean again, "He's mine."

"Like hell he is,'" growled out a fresh voice and Bobby landed besides Dean eyeing the ghost with fury as he let loose a spray of rock salt as he fired his shotgun.

"Its not fair, he's mine," Saunders whined as he slinked back into the shadows allowing Sam to roll away coughing pitifully as the smoke tore at his lungs.

Dean hurried to his brother's side and hastily dragged him to his feet checking for further damage. As he glanced over at the ghost he wondered out loud, "Why the hell isn't that psycho dust? I burnt his bones."

Sam gripped his arm for support and wheezed out between desperate attempts to breathe, "Amulet. Must be bound to that…not the bones."

Smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand for not thinking of it sooner Dean pulled the necklace from out of his jean pocket. Growling his disgust he threw it to the floor and ground it beneath his boot heal.

Saunders eyes popped out in fear as the amulet shattered and the earthly link that kept him bound vanished. Now he'd never get to see his lovely Sam die either by his hand or the glorious fire.

A loud wail of disappointment rose up from his throat as he felt his body crumbling away just like the amulet had done. "Samuel," he called out longingly his grey fingers reaching out to him, still desperately trying to make contact with his prize.

Dean stood in protective stance in front of his brother fired his final round at the spirit. He huffed out a loud sigh of relief when the spirit shattered into a billion particles of black dust that was quickly absorbed into the inky darkness pouring out in a river of smoke from the dying house.

Grabbing his brother by the waist Dean had no time for words as chunks of flaming material spat out of the wall and from the ceiling. It really was time to cut and run and none to gently he hauled him over to the window with Bobby close at their heals.

"Here you best jump down first and I'll lower him to you," commanded Bobby as he caught sight of the damage to Sam for the first time, wondering just how on earth he was still on his feet, never mind going one to one with some super charged poltergeist.

Beryl standing a few yards back raced back to offer help as Dean jumped down and waited for his brother to follow.

Not realising just how heavy the tall boy was Bobby almost lost his grip as he lowered Sam over the edge of the window sill, any strength that had kept him on his feet rapidly fading as his head lolled dangerously onto his chest. "Come on son suck it like the good little Winchester you've been trained to be."

Sam's head jerked up at the familiar command that had dogged his childhood. "I'm trying Sir."

Bobby paled at the reference to John and shook his head at seeing the glazed and pain filled look on the boy's face. "You got him Dean?"

"Yeah," growled back Dean in gratitude as his brother was put back firmly into his care.

Sam tried to keep his body under some control but his long limbs were struggling for any sort of coordination. The moment they touched the grass below they buckled.

"Sorry," he whispered as the last of his adrenal rush faded and his spent body readied for total collapse.

Hoisting an arm around his waist Dean bit back a retort as his brother's head fell on to shoulder. On seeing Beryl rushing up to meet them he screamed out a warning, "Get back. Its not safe."

She stopped and took a few cautionary steps back her eyes reflecting the light of the burning building as the fire took full control. When the glass shattered in the windows from the intense heat she started to run to safety whilst Dean flung himself over his brother shielding him from the spray.

When the shower of glass ended Dean quickly hauled his brother back up again only to feel his weight lessen. He threw a look across his brother's chest and saw Bobby had looped an arm of support around Sam's waist. "Thanks," he whispered as they started at run to get them all out of harms way.

"When did the runt of yours get so freaking heavy? What the heck have you been feeding him on?" Bobby gasped out under the effort of guiding the barely conscious youngest Winchester to safety.

"Lucky Charms and Gummi bears," answered back Sam the effects of the smoke making his voice low and gravely.

Dean chuckled but the desperation in his eyes didn't disappear. "Boy's gonna end up with a mouthful of cavities."

Bobby just merely grunted and Dean added, "He got chewed up good and proper Bobby. He needs a hospital. I can't fix this."

Already aware of the heat leaching off Sam the older hunter nodded, "We can get him over to Barnsley Medical centre one town over. I know a couple medics and some doctors there who wont' ask too many questions if you get my drift."

As he eyed Dean he could see the guilt eating away in his eyes his face and knew there was one hell of story to get out of him before the night was through..

_**TBC**_

_**Okay, well I think one more chapter to go. Hope you got through this little marathon in one piece. Just like out boys sort of did!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Again usual disclaimers apply and all mistakes are very much of my own making. Sorry for the delay in getting this up but the stupid shoulder been giving me jip! Anyway its another long one so I hope you enjoy! Rozzy.**_

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 8:** **Proverbial tethered goat in the lions den**

An angry Bobby Singer wry frame had enough upper body strength to drag Dean's stockier frame after him not stopping till they were well out of earshot of the Nurses station. Ever since he had wormed the full story out of the older Winchester about the cause of the fire and the ghost he had been slowly smouldering but now he was super combustible.

Stopping in a small waiting area Bobby pushed Dean away from him studying the young man with fire in his eyes. "You really are turning into a first class bastard just like your daddy."

Dean for his part dared to look shocked for a brief moment before trying to justify himself, "You heard what the doctors said, Sam is gonna be out of it for next 24 hours. I'll be back before then and he'll be none the wiser."

Singer's look was flinty cold as he spat out his disbelief, "You really willing to risk that? You think this is doing right by your brother?"

"Don't make me out to be the bad guy here. I have to finish this."

Bobby glared back at him, "So you really expect me to stay here and play nursemaid while you go chasing after that fuckwad Anderson?"

"It won't be so bad, Sam will be half loopy on the pain meds," cajoled Dean with a small smirk, "Its not as if you haven't done it before in the past for the big goofball."

Bobby spluttered for a moment but managed to regain enough composure to growl back at Dean, "What happens if you're gone longer than a day smart ass? What then?"

The idea that he would be away from his brother longer than a day was hard to think on and he shrugged it away, "Come on man, you can bluff it out - you're real good at that. A day or two max I promise."

Bobby exploded and grabbed Dean by his shirt collar, "You expect me to bare face lie to the boy when he asks why his idiot big brother has taken off? Sam is so far away from being stupid that its really scary at times– he'll work it all out eventually."

Dean shrugged out of his grip to run shaky fingers through his grimy hair, "You think I don't know that? Look all I'm asking is that you keep your mouth shut about how Anderson sold him out to Murdoch. On top of the what the demon has already said to Sam he'll just plain freak."

Bobby stabbed a finger at him his anger making his voice sound hoarse, "He has every right to freak. The brother of yours is a target now for human or demon, no matter how much you try to ignore it."

Dean sucked in a painful breath as his throat tightened finding the acrimony coming from Bobby bitter to swallow. "I know what's gunning for my brother and that's why I need to stop Anderson. It's the only way I know to keep him safe."

Bobby's stance softened slightly at feeling the despair rolling off Dean. "What's safe for him now? People are starting to notice the name of Winchester and god love the boy but Sam ain't exactly invisible at the best of times."

Dean allowed a reluctant smile to tug at the corner of his mouth, "Yeah amazing how he can attract all the bad and fuglies out there. Might as well be wearing a t-shirt proclaiming 'Psychic kid here – come kill me' on the front."

Bobby didn't appreciate Dean's attempt to alleviate the mood, "As I see it you walked your brother shining light and all straight into the sights of Walker and Anderson. Wasn't your daddy's warning clear enough?"

"I have his words screaming in my head 24-7," Dean growled back his body trembling at the reminder. "I have to stop any further hunters getting involved."

Bobby cocked him a wary look, "The way that snake was babbling when he rang I think he's seen the error of his ways. Anderson's running scared and is smart enough to know to leave your brother alone from now on."

Dean leant into him eyes daring him to disagree, "If Sam was your family would you take that chance?"

When Bobby flinched he knew he had hit home. Bobby was as much an uncle figure to them than any blood relation could be. Sam was his family too.

Dean's eyes glittered bright as he admitted his fears. "Say if that bastard hooks up with another bunch of knee-jerk reactionary hunters. All it takes is another knucklehead like Murdoch to get fixated on this whole psychic-demon connection and then 'bam' we're up to our necks in crap again."

Bobby recalling the pitiful mess the younger Winchester had been, all bloodied and with his cast literally falling apart, knew he never wanted to see him such a state again.

Tiredly he scrubbed a hand over his face, "So what you gonna do here Dean. Track the duplicitous little shit down to shoot him like the mangy dog that he is?"

Dean looked away and Bobby had his answer but knew better than try to steer him from this path, after all if he had been his baby brother he would be doing the same.

Shaking his head he knew he wasn't going to be able to stop Dean from going, "You know he's gonna ask why you didn't stay. I can bullshit with the best of them but lies can only go so far…"

Dean eyes pleaded with the older hunter for some understanding, "Just don't let him know the real truth. Keep him in the dark until I get back. Please."

"I'll try," agreed Bobby finally. "You just get this sorted out fast boy, before your brother has a chance to ask me too many questions. You get my drift?"

Dean swallowed slowly grateful for the man's support, "Thanks man."

Singer reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll take care of your brother but you need to do the same for yourself. You understand me?"

When Dean gave a short nod Bobby growled out softly, "Sam will be fine as long as you are. Don't think of doing anything you can't walk away from or stops you from getting back to your brother."

Eyes wandering down the corridor to the door where beyond his brother lay drugged up and pain free Dean drew himself up taller, a fierce glint of determination written on his face.

Stepping out of Bobby's hand he threw him a grim smile, "Well I best be going old man before the trail gets too old. You just stop my little brother from doing anything stupid till I get back."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam looked mutinously at the various drips running into him and hissed out his annoyance. The urge to pull them all out and get back on his feet was growing with every second that he was left alone to think and stew on what had gone wrong.

Despite all what Bobby said in his usual monosyllabic way things weren't adding up the way he told it. It just felt wrong.

Dean leaving in search of Anderson he could understand but what didn't make any sense is how the man went missing in the first place. The grizzled hunter from what he could remember had a busted leg and shoulder and no way would he have been able to drive away.

Scrunching his nose up he knew having a memory like Swiss cheese with only the taciturn Singer to voice off against didn't help make things any clearer. Nothing about the night was making any sense and he guessed the real answers lay with Dean but he was too busy trying to find Ben to even speak to him.

Tummy fluttering Sam felt a measure of guilt wash over him about the absent hunter. The man may be an obnoxious jerk, but that jerk had kept his brother's back protected more than once when he was away at college.

No wonder his brother felt such a strong bond of loyalty to the man Sam could admit to himself. Then his frown deepened and he could hazard a guess why his brother might still be pissed at him. After all the first time his brother allows him to finally meet someone from his own inner circle of buddies he ends up flattening the dude.

Sam shifted uncomfortable on the bed he groaned out loud, 'Way to go you idiot. Way to alienate your brother even further.'

Glancing over to the vacant chair Sam heaved a long heartfelt sigh and started to twiddle once more with one of the lines going into arm wondering just how much longer he would be forced to stay in this bed.

**O0o0o0o0o0o**

"How's he doing Bobby?"

"He'd be doing a whole lot better if you got your stupid ass back here." huffed back Singer. Parking up in the hospital car park he stilled the engine and waited for Dean to answer.

This was going to be his third day of being at Sam's bedside to watch him struggle to accept his brother not being there and it didn't make his mood any sweeter when talking to his absent brother. He could cheerfully strangle Dean for leaving him to deal with a confused and hurting Sam.

Dean finally asked a soft desperation to his voice, "Really how is he?"

Bobby on hearing his words wondered if Dean had managed any sleep since leaving his brother's side and the harsh edge went from his voice, "Well he's still a little fuzzy about things. Gotta say the smack to his head must have been a real doozy but he's more alert, asking after you again and all."

Dean didn't take the bait and deliberately kept his questions focused on his brother's recovery. The last thing he wanted to get into was a heated exchange of when he was returning. "So what about the damage those freaking nails did to his arm and side?"

Bobby growled under his breath but answered, "They got the infection in his side under control and his fever is gone. Arm though is another story. They won't put on a fresh cast till the wounds heal up first. Worried about possible further infection I think."

"But no lasting damage to be worried about? He's doing good right?" Dean exhaled a thankful breath, hoping to be back before his brother got his new cast. He had made a promise to himself to there for that, what with the first cast being a total disaster for both of them.

"Yeah good, like you say he heals fast. Things are still hit and miss in what he remembers about the night but then again may be that's not such a bad thing. For you anywise."

"For me?" queried Dean unable to keep a long yawn from escaping, "Whys that?"

"Might stop your brother from asking those irritating questions that you don't want answered."

There was a long pause before Dean spoke again, "So he's been asking then?"

Bobby snorted out loud, "Oh yeah, asking and not really liking the answers. Like I said that brother of yours is way to smart, concussion or not, to not know when he's being fed a pile of horse manure."

Dean swallowed and whispered down the line, "Thanks Bobby."

"For what? Lying to your brother?"

"No dude, for being there for him. I couldn't have left him with anyone else but you. Just thanks. Look I'm beat I'll call you tomorrow same time okay?"

Bobby quickly shouted back down the line before he got cut off. "Dean yer have to give your brother a call. Fool kid is worried about you, so ring him."

"And say what? That I screwed up and almost got him killed because I put a waster like Anderson in front of him. I don't think I can trust myself to talk to him. Not until I finish this."

"So you fucked up and your gonna let your stupid pride hurt your brother even more because of it. Suck it up and talk to your brother. I've had to fudge the truth face to face with Sammy and all I'm asking is that you ring him. Before he does something stupid."

Dean let a soft exhale, "That's why I left him with you Bobby. Remember?"

He went to hang up but deep down knew that Bobby was right and quickly added, "Okay I'll ring him tomorrow. I might be heading back your way anyways if I don't get a lead on Anderson soon."

"You do that son. You do that."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Stupid ghost really had been a playing for maximum damage he acknowledged as the pain meds slowly wore off and the pain started to throb in his side and head. It had only be a few hours since he insisted they be stopped but he was determined to prove that he could get by without the powerful opiates. A couple of Aspirin would do just fine. He hoped.

Irritably he fingered the stitches in his scalp not liking the effects of what being smacked with a tyre iron had done to his ability to think clearly or sort out the weird jumble of images, memories perhaps of the night.

_Dangling legs capped with black cowboy boot, with pools of gushing blood and birthday presents all tied up in a pretty pink bow. _

Along with the flashes of images came snatches of words, of fractured conversations that he knew held importance. Then a loud familiar voice filled with anger growled in his head. Sam's eye snapped open wide as the memory became solid. Dean had really been mad at him. Spitting mad as he waved an amulet under his nose and told him that his help was redundant.

Feeling physically sick at the memory he whispered under his breath. " Oh god, I'm sorry brother."

Another voice oily and slick whispered in his ear again and Anderson's biting words on their first meeting echoed around him. _As I see it one day you might just end up getting your brother killed if all he has to do is worry about protecting your sorry ass." _

Looking back at the empty chair Sam's heart beat painfully in his chest and his mouth went dry. Clenching his fist, ignoring the pull of the line in his flesh, he shook his head in denial. No way was he going to be the cause of any harm coming to his brother. He'd sooner die than ever let that happen.

Determinedly he pulled on the first line going into hand hissing through clenched teeth as he waggled the long needle out to then press his thumb over puncture wound as it dribbled red.

Didn't hurt half as much as he had expected he grinned to himself. 'Okay,' he whispered out loud confidence rising, 'One down three to go.'

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Singer walked past the Nurses station as nonchantly as he could but he could still feel the grey haired harpie's eyes track after him. The woman with her ability to bore holes into his back was evil personified he thought causing a shiver to go down his spine.

Pushing open the door to Sam's room he momentarily froze till the feeling of Nurse Harpie eyes still locked on him forced him inside.

Sam had turned to throw a warm smile of greeting before he giggled out softly, "Jeez man I thought you might have been Nurse Hatchett."

"Sam?" Blue eyes danced over his charge a little astonished to see him sitting precariously at the edge of the bed. Then a scowl crossed his face when he realised just what the youngest Winchester had gotten up to. "You aiming to go where exactly?"

Sam looked up a startled expression on his face as the realisation hit home that he hadn't thought out his escape properly. Shaking his head he looked over at Singer for moral support, "A motel? Come on dude I have to get out of here."

Bobby dropped the small bag he was carrying onto a chair and strode over to Sam knowing exactly the reason behind what was driving the boy to flight, "A motel my ass. And before you say anything else dunderhead you ain't in any condition to go chasing after that idiot brother either."

"I just can't stay here doing nothing…." muttered Sam under his breath, a blush on his cheeks already showing his exhaustion. "Its time to get out of here."

Bobby growled out his disbelief, "No way, you're staying put. Dean would have my hide if you I let you leave before your all fixed up good and proper."

It was the first time Bobby got to see that intractable stubborn streak settle in Sam's deep green eyes. John had hinted at it more than once, at how impossible it was to persuade Sam to change his mind when he gave you 'that look'.

Now in truth it was quite a chilling sight to have it directed at him and he was forced to shift his eyes away.

Sam voiced his intentions further and stood to his full height, his knees locking to stop him toppling forwards. "One way or the other I'm getting out of here. With your help or not."

Blowing out an exasperated breath Bobby knew that he stood a snowball in hell chance of winning this battle of wills and he cursed under his breath. 'What was it with these stupid Winchester men and their inability to listen to reason?'

Sam still stood towering over him and Bobby threw his hands up in exasperation, acknowledging his surrender, "Fine you big galoot. Just get back on the damn bed before you fall down. I'll try get the doctors to release you to your 'soft hearted and loving' uncle's care."

Sam started to bridle at the suggestion that he needed looking after but Bobby firmly stopped him. "No argument here boy. You can either stay at my place to heal up or I can get them to sedate till your brother gets back. What's it gonna be?"

Not liking either choice Sam sat back down on the bed before nodding reluctantly his agreement. He knew he really did need the older man's help and shyly looked up at him. "I don't mean to cause you any trouble. I could stay in a motel till Dean gets back…"

Bobby sucked in a breath at his sincere response remembering another warning from John about how hopeless it was to resist his youngest when he could shoot those puppy dog eyes at you.

A vulnerable Sam was equally as dangerous he realised as he felt his defences crumbling away. "No. You're staying with me so best get used to the idea and don't think I'm gonna let you get away with any of the usual Winchester nonsense. My roof, my rules. Got it?"

When Sam goofily grinned back at him he swallowed down an urge to hug the ginormous boy to him and instead snatched up a box of tissues by his bedside table and tossed them into his lap. "Best start mopping up that mess you made of your arm or that bitching Nurse Battleaxe will never let me spring you from this joint."

Sam dimples deepened, "Thanks Bobby. I know you can get round Nurse Hatchett. Just flash her one of your killer smiles and the anal queen of cleanliness will fold straight away…."

Bobby merely huffed as he quickly exited the room knowing that he been manipulated by Sam but he couldn't fault the kid for wanting to blow this depressing place. Still it surprised him just how easily Sam had gotten him to fold. Damn kid had learnt from the best he guessed as he thought on his absent brother and father.

As he walked as confidently as he could up to the Nurses station he was forced to swallow a curse as Nurse Hatchett was still there and eyed his approach with a dour expression.

Out of all the nurses on this shift it had to be this dried up old prune.

Cautiously he drew to halt in front of her and knew it was going to be as much fun of pulling teeth out of his head to get her to agree to Sam leaving. He'd sooner face a gaggle of demons than her but he had promised the kid and now there was no going back.

'Stubborn Winchester gene couldn't skip a generation.' he thought bitterly to himself as he wilted under her disapproving look and fidgeted anxiously with the brim of his cap.

Neither tall or broad the whippet thin woman in her pristine uniform and perfectly coiffed hair scared the bejeezers out of him he had to admit to himself and it was not often woman or demon could do that to him. Although shorter by half foot than him she still managed to look down her nose at him.

"I can I help you Mr Singer," queried the nurse with enough snap in her high nasally voice to make him flinch. She clicked on her ballpoint and ticked something on a clipboard she held in her left hand, though her gaze remained firmly on the man in front of her.

As she scrutinised him further she had to bite down the familiar urge to shove a scrubbing brush and a bar of soap into his hands and follow it up with verbal instructions on what the addition of water might achieve. The man just looked down right unsanitary.

But what she felt most threatened by was the hideously filthy baseball cap he sported permanently adhered to his head. Every time he walked onto her ward she was sure the thing constituted a health hazard and she found herself disinfecting the Winchester patient's room every time he left.

Shuddering slightly the nurse silently ground her teeth on wondering on all the little nasty germs that man was carrying around on top of his head. It just didn't bear thinking on. Not in her nice clean antiseptic world she kept under control on this ward.

Finding his voice Singer found himself stuttering out, "Well… its like this, the kid seems so much better, don'tcha think? Much much better in fact."

When he finished his less than stellar opening in the war to spring Sam from her grasp he winced as she raised an eyebrow and her clipped New England accent held no hint of warmth, "If you are trying to ascertain whether Mr Winchester is recovering well then I am pleased to inform you that he is."

Flashing her a hopeful smile he continued, "Good enough to be discharged? The poor thing is just busting to get out of here. Have some home cooked food for and all."

She smiled in return flashing white perfectly formed teeth and Bobby drew back a step startled by just how unnatural it looked on her thin pinched face.

Her icy response froze the air around Bobby, "Mr Singer as you might recall your nephew is recovering from a severe concussion and has open wounds to a broken arm and upper torso that are liable to get re-infected or worse in certain conditions."

Putting down her clipboard she shot him another hard look, "What he needs is to stay in a nice clean sanitary environment. Clean and germ free. A place where he can be nursed appropriately."

Singer stilled his features, his anger starting to bubble under his skin not liking the attachment she kept putting on the word clean. "I fully appreciate that and I'll have the bromide out and the whole place scoured clean before he sets foot through the front door."

Nurse Hatchett sniffed at him in open disbelief, "Your nephew is also on a variety of medications Mr Singer. You can't just take him out of here without compromising his care and future management plan. He will only end up back here or worse."

"Look ma'am I have medical experience from my days in the Corp so getting him to take all his meds and keeping the wounds clean ain't gonna be no problem."

"I don't think you understand Mr Singer, Samuel is in no shape to leave."

Bobby leant forward his voice low as he finally made his stand, "Don't matter. You best prepare the necessary AMA forms and any medications to take with him because he's going home. Today."

She sputtered her indignation but Bobby raised a hand up to stop her tirade pointedly looking at his watch before locking eyes with her again, "Your running out of time here lady, cos if I'm a judge of what a stubborn cuss my nephew is he's already dressed and readying to leave."

Snorting her disbelief the nurse brushed by Bobby and click-clacked hurriedly down the corridor but as she went to open the door to Sam's room she was pre-emptied by him pulling it open. "Mr Winchester what on earth do you think you are doing?"

"Getting out of here," was his response followed by a flash of dimples. Once again the Winchester charm was back on display as he added, "Decided it was time I was going home with my uncle Bobby."

As Singer watched him go into full charm offensive he stifled a chuckle. Nurse Battleaxe really didn't stand a chance in hell of stopping Sam from getting his own way.

Not even his own daddy had been able to do that in all his years of dealing with the boy.

As Bobby watched on he could see the indignant nurse being well and truly being worn down by the continuous flash of deepening dimples and too sincere green eyes.

Bloody lethal tools at his disposal thought Bobby as he watched Sam melt the harpie's heart from stone to a soggy mush.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean supped at a cold beer eyes searching out all the dark corners of the bar for a familiar face but still Joshua was a no show.

In the last five days crisscrossing across various state lines the only success had been Joshua finding Anderson's truck.

Tracked by GPS to a disused warehouse two states over he hoped that the old family friend had found something they could use to find the traitor to his family. It was just so frustrating that after all these days he was left waiting impatiently for Joshua to turn up in person having flatly refused to go in details over the phone.

Sometimes he wondered at the paranoia of the man, but then again it had kept him alive all these years and with Caleb and Jim gone he was more than a little thankful for it. Perhaps he should invest in a dose of paranoia himself from now on, especially if it helped keep his baby brother alive.

A meaty hand snuck on his shoulder made Dean shoot up straight and he chuckled tiredly on realising that he had let his old friend slip through his defences so easily. Shifting on his stool he looked his way glad of his presence, "Hi Joshua. Thanks for coming."

The bald headed man with a long well groomed beard assessed him coolly before clicking his tongue in disapproval, "Jesus you look like crap boy. I thought you said it was Junior who ended up in the hospital."

Rubbing self-consciously at the yellowing bruise on his jaw line Dean smiled back. "Even on a bad day you old goat day I look ten times prettier than you ever will."

Joshua laughed and beckoned over the bar tender for a large whiskey and another beer for Dean before sitting down besides him, "How's Sammy?"

"Discharged himself from hospital two day back and is driving Singer crazy by all accounts. I have to get back to them soon or I think Bobby will blow a gasket."

"Sounds like our favourite geek, always could get round Singer with just a look," grinned back Joshua brushing the silky length of his beard in habit as the bar tender handed him his drink.

With a tired sigh Dean eyes dropped down hating the fact that he was still forced to keep the lies ongoing with his brother. "He's really starting to push for answers …about Gil Murdoch. About why the place wasn't clean of civilians."

"But he still doesn't know about Ade Murdoch. About Ben?"

"Bobby has managed to string him along, but I don't know for how long."

With bloodshot eyes he lifted his head up again needing to know what had been found at the warehouse so he picked up his fresh beer and nodded over to the large bear of man, "So what did you find with the truck. Anything we can use to track him down?"

Joshua stilled and his eyes hardened, flitting quickly around the bar before he looked back at Dean, "Won't need to. Someone did you a favour by blowing Anderson's brains out through the front of his head. Not a pretty sight I can tell you."

Dean couldn't keep the shock off his face, "When did this happen? "

Joshua took a long deep slug of his whiskey before answering, "By my guess at least three days back judging by the smell. Looks like someone drove him to that place with the intention of killing him. His hands were tide behind his back and his broken leg was still a mess. Must have been in a hell of a lot of pain before his brains splattered the windscreen."

Dean couldn't keep the vicious smile of triumph off his face. The bastard deserved all that he had gotten but the mystery still remained who had taken him out like that.

On noticing the speculative stare coming his way Joshua shook his head. "Not me I promise kiddo. Me, I would have made him a suffer whole lot longer for getting Junior busted up like that."

Laughing his relief as the heavy burden he had been bearing lifted slightly off his shoulders Dean smacked his arm, "Now that would be something worth paying to view."

Joshua smirked back but the smile didn't touch his eyes. He was still worried for John's boys and he leant in. "So who do you think did this Dean? He was whacked days before the alerts went out on the underground network. Someone with their own agenda did this and I don't like it one little bit."

Not wanting to view a gift horse in the mouth Dean interjected, "Whoever took Anderson out did me a hell of a favour. I screwed things up big time with this one Josh. I led my brother into that trap. I should have checked it all out first but I was so goddam sure about Ben."

Joshua could see the guilt eating away at Dean hated what the cost of John's inaction were costing his sons now, "You're just need to stick with Sam and keep him protected from all the crazies out there."

"Yeah bang up job I've done of that so far. It's always been my responsibility to keep him safe but lately I just keep getting him hurt."

Josh shook his head angrily. "No Dean that was supposed to have been your daddy's job but he fucked that up big time."

Startled by the vehemence in his voice Dean eyed the seasoned hunter with alarm. The older man was never shy in voicing his opinion but to hear him sound off about his dad like that rattled deep. "Leave him out of this. Dad did what he thought best."

"Ya think so? The John Winchester I knew only did what he thought best for him. His need to kill that demon was all consuming. Nothing else mattered."

Struggling to breathe through the memories Joshua was churning up Dean managed to spit out, "No. We mattered. His family. Nothing was more important than that."

Joshua sat back and sighed. "John loved you boys, but it didn't stop him from utilising you both as weapons against that Demon. Your brother especially."

Dean choked on his beer his face reddening in anger. "What the hell does that mean."

"It means your dad knew about Sammy, about his abilities and what they meant, and did nothing to protect the boy against it. John knew Sam was a lure for the demon and wasn't afraid in utilising that in hope of destroying the thing."

Eyes stinging at the raw honesty of Joshua's words it was hard to keep his voice from cracking as he tried to defend his father, "Your wrong, Dad did everything he could to keep Sammy safe. Everything."

"Yeah well as I see it wasn't enough, cos your daddy's dead and he's left Sam looking like some tasty appetiser for all the unnaturals out there. The kid is the proverbial tethered goat in the lions den."

Dean laughed hollowly, "Dad knew that, that's why he told me to take care of him. Its is _my_ job after all. I will protect him no matter what. Nothing bad is going to happen to the kid. Not with me on his watch."

Joshua drained the last of his whiskey and leant in, "I hope so Dean. I really do."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"I'm bored," grunted out Sam aloud as he sat on the porch squinting against the late afternoon sun. The air was thick with stale motor oil and rusting metal and no matter how many times he looked around the car yard he could find absolutely nothing to hold his interest.

The large dog at his feet woofed softly before dropping his head back onto the wooden floor. It was too hot to do anything but rest it reasoned ignoring the line of ants walking on the wooden plank a few inches from his muzzle that broke ranks when his breath hit them again.

Two days at Bobby's place was proving as stifling as staying in a hospital bed. The restrictions that the older man was imposing virtually kept him a prisoner to his newly sanitised room.

'Too many frigging germs around that yer could be exposed to,' could be heard from the man muttering under his breath every time he mentioned about leaving the room.

It seemed that Nurse Hatchett had really managed to rile him up enough about cleanliness to put it into practice. Now the whole place reeked of bleach, every wall and work surfaces scrubbed spotlessly clean. Three times a day Sam was regularly scrutinised to make sure that he remained on target to have a new cast put at the end of the week and that his wounds remained clean. Warm 'loving' uncle Bobby had been replaced with Gestapo Bob.

As he looked around the piles of broken vehicles around the junkyard Sam chuckled to himself knowing that the older man would kick up a storm if he came back to see him sitting outside on this decidedly shabby veranda, bleach free and germ laden.

Feeling lethargic after his rest in the sun he decided he needed to walk it off. Pulling himself up he tried a loose stretch giving only a slight wince as the movement pulled on some of the stitches in his side.

Taking a stride towards the steps that led down from the porch he felt something push his leg The large Rotweiller was blocking his path taking seriously his role of guard dog.

The large dog woofed as Sam tried to pass by him again. Looking down at the panting animal Sam rolled his eyes in disbelief, "What? He got you pegging my every movement too now. Just going for a little walk you stupid pooch."

The dog whined up and a large paw nudged at his leg in attempt to push him back. Sam laughed admitting defeat. "Okay mutt. I'm thirsty anyways. Stupid medication leaves my throat like sandpaper"

Huffing his relief the large dog trotted after him into the house. It was a place he rarely entered but someone had to make sure that reckless human didn't try any of that nonsense his master kept warning him about.

Sam could feel the dog's eyes resting on him as he drank a long cold glass of water and he smiled to himself. He knew Bobby would go red in the face if he found the dog in the house during the day and mischievously filled out two bowls for the dog, one filled with cereal and the other with fresh water.

The dog tail thumped happily as it snapped up the sugary treat before slurping up noisily the ice cold water all the while making one huge mess of Bobby's pristine newly bleached floor and Sam couldn't stifle a giggled.

"Way to go Rummy," he whispered affectionately as he patted the large dog's dusty back.

As he rinsed out his glass he idly stared out of the window his thoughts on his brother. His call yesterday hinted on his return and he just hoped it would be sometime today to spring him from Gestapo Bob.

A soft rumbling growl caught his attention and his head snapped down to the dog noticing just how alert the he had become, his ears cocked back as the stared at the door.

"Hey Rummy what is it?" Sam asked softly not wanting to spook the dog further.

The hackles along the spine of the dog's back rose and his growl deepened. Glancing down at his watch Sam knew that it was too early for Singer to be back from picking up supplies and spare parts from town.

The small knock on the door ignited the dog into action and he sprinted to the wooden door barking loudly out a warning. _Stay away or I'll eat you._

Sam warily snuck a paring knife into a back jean pocket feeling a little foolish as it was more than likely a customer looking for a spare part. Still he had been raised a Winchester and no respecting member of his family opened a door to the unknown without some form of protection.

Grabbing at Rumsfeld collar before he opened the door Sam called the large dog to heal, still unsure if he would be able to control the massive dog if it decided to take a chunk out the caller.

Slowly he opened the door and squinted against the glare of bright sunlight before his eyes travelled down to see an unfamiliar face. A small inconspicuous blond haired man about his age looked back up at him.

"Yes?" asked Sam cautiously blocking the doorway with his legs so the the dog remained in check, "Can I help you?"

The man nodded eyeing the dog in alarm, "Umh yeah, I'm Hank and I'm looking for Dean . He did a job with my brother a while back."

Sam frowned and shook his head readying to shut the door, the tingle going up and down his spine making him feel very uneasy about the small man in front of him, "Sorry don't know the name."

Cocking an eyebrow in surprise Hank blurted out, "I know you're his brother. Sam, right?"

Hank dared to come closer and the dog surged forwards. Sam snatched at his collar pulling in the process the stitches in his side as he struggled to keep the dog from tearing a chunk out of the man.

"Stay," Sam snapped out desperately trying to ignore the burn in his side and obediently the dog sat back down but the rumbling growl in his throat deepened and Hank took a cautionary step backwards.

Letting go of the dog's collar again Sam placed himself between him and Hank and eyed him coldly, "You best be going. Don't think the puppy likes you very much."

Hank looked past him at the large dog and flinched, "Okay, okay. Just wanted to give this to Dean. A little reminder.."

His hand shaking he pressed an envelope into Sam's chest. At the contact the dog shot back on his feet determined to take a bite out of the thin man for invading their space and Sam struggled to quickly shut the door before he got out and made good his threat.

As the door shut firmly in front of him the small man took that as his cue and took off in a run to the car he had parked at the back of the lot.

As the sweat pooled down his back from the hot afternoon sun he couldn't but help sport a broad smile of satisfaction on his face. Satisfaction that for first time he could finally live up to the Murdoch family name.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_Okay I know I thought this would be the final chapter but not being able to type for a while meant that when I could the pages kept getting filled! And besides poor little Hank Murdoch finally has a chance to shine… stepping out of the shadow of his big fat bully of an older brother! _


	9. Chapter 9

**All usual disclaimers apply about owing nothing Supernatural. **

**Loved all the really nice reviews so thanks one and all. And to be honest I have no idea how this chapter morphed itself into what it actually became so I hope you bear with me as there is an ending in the works!**

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 9: Lying and Flying**

The burly dog pawed at the door again looking up with a confused expression when Sam shook his head at him. He nudged his leg with his muzzle but Sam merely offered up an apology, "Sorry Rummy no chewing down on humans no matter what Bobby tells you."

Standing up straight Sam studied the envelope. Whoever this Hank was he had been pretty determined to make sure his brother got this not even letting a snarling rotweiller prevent him from delivering it in to his hands.

Curious to its content he ran his fingers over the envelope but there was nothing obvious to be felt through the thick manila envelope and the weight was insubstantial to offer any other clues.

"You know what they say 'curiosity killed the cat' and I aim to stay alive just a little big longer," murmured Sam out loud as he resisted the urge to open it.

He was sure his brother wouldn't appreciate him invading his privacy so the story of who this Hank was and how his brother knew him would have to wait till then.

Manoeuvring the envelope into the back of his jean pocket as best he could he tried to ignore the dog who had taken an interest in it and was sniffing after it. The dog was persistent and pushed his wet nose into his back pocket and pawed at Sam's backside.

At the contact Sam danced out of his reach and playfully batted his nose away, "Hey mind the goods dude, way to up and personal."

Rumsfield gave a soft yip of surprise, snuffled once then let rip with a sneeze spraying a few sticky strands of mucous outwards through the air.

"Ugh, that's just plain gross," gasped out Sam quickly jumping back so that he didn't get hit with the slimy airborne strings.

As the dog sneezed again Sam stood back his eyes roaming around the room, noticing for the first time the mess the dog had managed to make since he brought him into the house.

Shaking his head in alarm Sam swallowed dryly, "Oh damn it he is so gonna kill me.'

The place was a mess as he tracked the broken lines of salt, the wet tacky paw prints on the once pristine floor and the upturned pile of books and coffee table the dog had knocked over at some point.

Purposely he strode over to the shut door and yanked it open, "Okay time for you to get your ugly mutt out of here before you completely wreck the place and I get my backside caned."

He reasoned that by now the guy named Hank should have had enough time to get away from Rummy's sharp teeth and watched the eager dog with a rueful smile. The dog was going to be sorely disappointed he thought as he watched him bound out.

Baking furiously the large dog was eager to get a hold of the man that had dared touch his master's friend but drew to sharp halt at the edge of the veranda when he was nowhere in sight. His head lifted sniffing the air for the stranger's scent ears cocked for any giveaway sound.

A car engine in the distance started up and Sam laughed as he watched the dog tear off down one side of a long path of battered vehicles barking furiously.

With a trained ear Sam listened for any screaming but guessed when the barking ceased that the man had made good his escape. He wasn't surprised when a few minutes later the dog returned panting heavily to flop at Sam's feet clearly dejected at not catching his prey.

The dog whined softly and Sam bent down to whisper conspiratorially at him as long sinewy fingers scratched behind one floppy ear, "Listen pooch I'm going to be so screwed, especially after last night, if Gestapo Bob finds out about me letting you in the house and all. Don't you rat me out when he gets back, you hear me? Play it cool."

The dog woofed up at him his tail thumping back as if agreeing to this collusion remembering perhaps the sweet cereal of earlier and wanting more. Sam nodded back before standing up. "I'd best go back in and clear away the evidence."

When the dog went to follow after him Sam put out a restraining hand out, "No boy. You have to stay outside now. Revert to killer guard dog mode or we are both busted."

**o0o0o0o0o0o **

It was hot and heavy work picking up all the orders he had put off for the last five day and was thankful there was only one more parcel to toss into the back of the truck. His phone vibrated in his pocket and as he pulled it out he smiled in relief at seeing the caller ID as his wilful brother was becoming ever more difficult to keep under control.

"Dean, please tell me yer on your way back or so help me I will personally track your sorry ass down and deposit your brother right back in your lap."

Dean laughed softly at hearing the exasperation in Singer's voice, "Sam proving difficult old man?"

"Difficult? No he's been an angel, a real darling these last two days."

Hearing the sarcasm rolling off Bobby's tongue Dean flinched. "So, that good eh?"

"Good? I'm pretty sure that angelic brother of yours tried to hotwire my truck last night. If it hadn't been for Rummy kicking up such a racket he would have gotten plumb away."

Dean tried desperately not to laugh but couldn't keep the splutter from his voice, "Your truck? You've got to be kidding. Just where the hell did he think he was going in that beat up monstrosity of yours?"

"To find you, that's what you idiot. Tried to feed me a line of bullshit that he couldn't sleep and just wanted to listen to the radio."

"Well it could have been true," Dean teased back. "Reasonable enough explanation."

"Reasonable is asking for the bloody keys which I would have put a flea in his ear for asking. Reasonable would have been if it wasn't gone near to two o'clock in the morning where he had taken his sorry outside without any protection."

Taking a shuddering breath Bobby finally spat out, "And reasonable would be if the kid had the good fucking grace to actually sleep when I had doped up his cocoa with enough pain meds and sedation to knock out a freaking bull elephant."

Dean chuckled despite himself, "Cocoa? A bet you gave him cookies too. You know you're feeding him too much sugar. You remember Gremlins? Sam is the human equivalent of Gizmo. Never feed that boy sugar after the sun goes down or you pay a heavy price."

"Dean!" growled back Bobby. "Don't you get it the boy has the use of only one hand, is still liable to get another wound infection and on top of that is drugged up to his eyeballs on a cocktail of meds and he still tries to steal my truck. He could have driven himself into the nearest ditch or worse."

"I know he can be a tad wilful at times," answered Dean and had the grace to wince when Bobby snorted his agreement down the line, "Okay Bobby, don't worry we'll back by supper time to take him off your hands."

"We?"

"Joshua is tagging along with me."

"Joshua?" Bobby grinned to himself secretly pleased at the man's return. With him around things were never dull and after a week spent babysitting he could do with letting off some recreational steam. "So that ugly bald headed coot managed to get the low down on our missing man or what?"

There was a pause and some muffled words that Bobby couldn't hear before Dean responded. "Yeah but he doesn't want it broadcast on the air if you get my drift."

"Nothing changes. The man is as paranoid as ever."

"Keeps him breathing dude," came back Dean aware that now was not the time to be trusting anyone who couldn't prove their loyalty to what was left of his family. His brother.

Bobby silently nodded his agreement running a grubby bandana over his sweating brow before adding, " Yeah well you tell him if he plans to stop by Chateau Singer he better bring his own beer. Stingy bastard drank me dry last time he dropped by for a chat."

Dean laughed recalling too easily his dad expressing near word perfect the same sentiments more than once in the past about the man. "Will do."

As he fed the information back to Joshua his deep baritone laugh echoed down the line and Bobby snapped back, "I mean it. He turns up on my doorstep without the beer he owes me I'll liable shoot his backside with more than salt pellets."

"He'll bring beer, or I'll shoot him for you myself, I promise," There was a momentary pause and Bobby knew what Dean was about to ask, "So how's Sam really doing besides trying to break out of Singergrad?"

Ignoring the jibe Bobby answered, "Physically he's healing fast, though I have to keep him on a tight rein to keep it that way. The boy just keeps wanting to run when he it's a slow walk he should be doing if you get my drift."

Dean openly chuckled this time, "Remember the brat skipped the crawling part as a baby. Just stood up one day and decided it was time to walk. After that there was no stopping him. Nothing has since."

Bobby grunted at the memory whilst throwing the last the package into the back of the truck before hoisting himself back into the driving seat of his pickup truck.

As he tried to get the key into the ignition he huffed out, "Yeah well someone has to put the brakes on him at times. Caught the idiot straining to lift a pile of books that weighed a tonne off the top of the bookcase. All one handed whilst balancing on a creaky old chair."

Dean smiled at the imagery. "Yeah those books must have seemed like Manna from heaven to geek boy. The lure was too strong for him to resist..."

Singer huffed in annoyance, "The fool would have busted his stitches if I hadn't stopped him in time."

Dean frowned at the thought, but was pleased that his old friend had been there to sort him out. He was still amazed that gruff man had managed to keep his brother grounded for so long, "Take it you threatened to spank his behind old man?"

There was a dirty chuckle before Bobby confessed, "Yer should have seen his face when I yanked at his ankle and threatened to cuff him upside the back of his head if I caught him doing anything so stupid again."

"Let me guess, he flashed those soulful eyes at you when you caught him with the books and the truck and you caved both times."

"Them huge peelers don't work on me boy," snorted back Bobby trying to deflect him from the truth but he guessed by the way Dean laughed down the line it hadn't worked.

After last nights incident with the truck he should have been as mad as hell with the youngest Winchester but Sam this morning looked so abjectly sorry it was just too damn hard to remain mad at him. The only thing he had managed to get out of the whole fiasco was a promise that he would keep himself indoors whilst he went into town and out of harms way.

Dean for his part felt a sudden yearning to hear his brother's voice and asked softly, "So hey why don't you put him on so I can tear a strip of him for trying to bust out like that and all."

"Well that would be a neat trick seeing that I'm in town picking up a backload of stuff and yer brother should be sitting meekly on the couch watching Oprah."

There was hitch to Dean's voice as he asked worriedly, "You left him on his own?"

"What was I supposed to do here dude? You said you'd be a day and now it's near the end of the week. I wasn't about to drag him into town and risk getting those wounds infected. Not after all my hard work in getting him up to par."

"Couldn't it have waited one more day?" whined Dean, "Jeez leaving him alone is just plain reckless."

Bobby spat angrily back at him. "Reckless? I'm not the one who dumped his brother and run. I picked up the slack like you asked but you said a day or two most. You seem to be forgetting that I have a business to run here? You think a week's load of spare parts were gonna walk all the way from the depot back to my yard?"

Dean tried to interject. "I hear what your saying man but…."

"But nothing. It's been almost a week, that's how long it's been. You think your brother is going to get better on nothing but water and fresh air when I've got no food left in the house to keep that lanky frame of his going? "

The thought of his brother on his own chilled the blood in Dean's veins but he knew he had been unreasonable in expecting Bobby to put everything on hold for so long, "I'm sorry man, I know you've done your best by Sammy it's just scary to think of him on his own."

Sucking back an expletive Bobby countered, "Look Sam ain't exactly helpless and he'd call if there was any trouble. Besides Rumsfield would tear strips of anyone before he let anyone near your brother."

Dean let out a shaky breath. "God I hope so."

"Stop yer fretting boy. I'm finished up here anyways." Bobby looked at his watch and his eyebrow twitched at noticing the length of time it had taken to load up all the supplies into his truck.

Cussing under his breath a sliver of guilt washed over him. He had left Sam far longer than he had intended but he had to trust that what he had just told Dean held true. Hopefully the kid would stick by his promise and not do anything stupid and the dog really would go for anyone that came near him in. Of that he was sure.

"I should ring him. Make sure he's okay," Dean muttered down the line.

Rolling his eyes Bobby started up the engine, "Would you listen to yourself Dean. Sam's a grown man not some little kid that you can keep wrapped up in cotton wool."

"Pot calling kettle black," snapped back Dean before tiredly adding, "Anyway as I see it isn't cotton wool he needs but heavy-duty armour plating from now on. He really doesn't have a clue what's gunning for him."

His irritation bubbling Bobby growled back, "Yeah well that's been your choice, keeping him in the dark. So you planning on telling him what's been going on when you get back?"

The silence was telling and Bobby shook his head, "It's gonna kill him Dean when he finds out that you kept these secrets from him. You ready to risk the fallout when he goes nuclear on yer for lying to him?"

Thinking on the now dead Anderson and the way he was taken out he swallowed dryly, "I'm doing this to protect him, you'll understand why when I get back with Joshua."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o **

Hank Murdoch carefully took off his cream coloured gloves and put them into a plastic bag for disposal not want to risk any of the cocktail of chemicals that might have seeped into the leather from getting on to his skin. Part one of this plan was now set in motion and he waited patiently for the confirming message that the second part of his plan had been put into action.

Sighing at a job well done he admired his neatly trimmed nails on his slim fingers before fishing out his mobile to text a simple message '_Package delivered.' _

A returning text message simply said. _'Same here_. _Will await your instructions.'_

'Yep,' he thought wistfully as he read the message, 'Mother is going to so proud of me.'

After all those years of being put down by his family as being too weak and puny to hunt on his own he was finally going to prove that sometimes brains over brawn was the better option.

Adrian had tried to get Sam Winchester by physically over powering him and failed. Now with the calling in of a few favours he was about to take down the mighty Winchester family and their bunch of cronies once and for all.

As he eyed the empty road waiting for the veteran hunter's truck to return Hank couldn't keep the happy smile off his face. Things were finally going to go his way. No stupid big brother around to mess things up anymore.

"Should have tried listening to me Ade for once in your stupid life," he whispered out loud, "But you always knew best and look where that got you. Dead as a dodo."

From the start had never wanted to do the Winchester job with his brother and Gil. The cockamamie plan that Ade and Anderson had cooked up was just full of holes not that his brother would listen to him so confident that he thought all the angles through.

When they had started the hunt he had barely kept hidden his relief at being told to stay and wait in the van. Third rated behind Gil and Anderson it was still a relief to be left as backup because at least with waiting in the van he would be out of harms way and now he could even feel grateful for to his brother for sidelining him like that.

Hank laughed at the memory of the so-called protective amulet his brother had dangled under his nose to reinforce his superiority. "On yeah bros you really did implode the last of the few brain cells you had left, because who in their right mind would conjure up a psychotic ghost to distract one brother to snatch the other? Only you my thick-head brother that's who."

A smirk lifted the corners of his thin lips at just how badly his brother had gotten it wrong ending with him being burnt to a crisp along with their gormless cousin Gil all the while leaving the Winchester brothers very much alive. And that turncoat Anderson too.

The night of his brother failure and death were still firmly etched on his mind and he knew that he was lucky that he hadn't been spotted by the Winchesters as the messy hunt played itself out.

In the end it was the call of nature that got him out of the van that night, and as he stood behind a tree to empty his bladder it was the sounds of voices carrying through the night air that had left him frozen to the spot.

To say his mouth had dropped open in surprise on seeing the grizzled hunter being dragged out of the building by the very prey they were supposed to be hunting was an understatement. In disbelief he had listened from the shadows as Anderson even had the barefaced cheek to thank the boy they were supposed to be stopping.

By the time he gotten back to the van and armed himself the Winchester kid had stumbled back into the building, Anderson had taken off and the fire had taken hold.

Unsure of what to do next he waited in the van wondering if his brother would soon emerge only to see Singer turn up and a few minutes later Dean come out of the burning building with him.

As the building burned he made his choice. Not worth risking going in there to save men who were almost certainly dead, not when a live one could be hunted down and made to pay for this screw up. He was after all a Murdoch when it came down to it his daddy didn't raise him not to get revenge on those that wronged the family name.

The final confirmation that made up his mind to go after Anderson first was when the youngest Winchester was dragged out of the house alive. The damn Winchesters were proving to be as slippery as eels. He would need a better strategy to nail their sorry behinds and the traitorous other hunters that sided with them.

The job he decided as he gunned the engine and started in a chase after Anderson would be finished his way with little more finesse than the bull-in-a-china-shop approach his brother had always seemed to favour.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o **

Sam picked up the two bowls on the floor ignoring the tug on his side and rinsed them quickly. The dog's little snack time would remain his secret he hoped as Bobby had been none to impressed with finding him in his truck in the wee hours and this whole dog in a house thing might just tip him over the edge.

Sweeping up the cereal spilled onto the floor he groaned when it didn't make the paw prints vanish as hoped and he was forced to mop away the evidence before tidying up the havoc caused in the living room.

By the end of his manic cleaning session he felt dizzy and thirsty but after knocking back the second glass of water in a minute he was left wondering why his mouth still felt so dry. Wiping away with the cuff of his sleeve he realised he must have overdone things a tad as his shirt clung to his chest and back.

Popping back a few pain pills to kill the dull ache in his arm and the sting in his side he shook his head and his vision swam.

Desperately he clung onto the edge of the sink dragging in long breaths to steady himself wondering why the colours around him suddenly seemed so intense, vibrating at him in intense waves so that he was forced to clench his eyes shut.

"Whoa," he muttered as he dared to straighten up. "I need a shower then bed."

Rumsfield was barking again but he didn't have the energy to go check on him. May be it was just Bobby returning and that hastened him away from the sink to totter back up the stairs to the bathroom before the hunter could tear a strip of him.

Making it to the bathroom without mishap Sam kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his jeans and peeled the sodden shirt from his back.

As Sam looked in the mirror he giggled softly back at his reflection, astounded at the way his face rippled in and out of focus on the glass. "Man oh man – must have taken one pain killer to many."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o **

Hank waited by the roadside when his phone vibrated back in his hand and the text icon appeared. Opening the text his face crinkled in a telling smile, small pearly teeth flashing in the dusky light. Snapping the phone shut again he gripped the steering wheel and laughed out loud. "End game."

His mind returned to the first one of the Winchester entourage he had taken out. For two days Anderson's pathetic pleading had worn on his nerves till it was easier to put a bullet to his head than lug him back to mother's for further torture It had irked though that he had allowed it to be such a speedy death for the man

Still it had been a learning experience in that he had discovered there was no fun to be had in blowing a man's brains out. It was just to damn fast without the satisfaction of the accompanying screams when you killed good and slow.

For once he knew he should have listened to those ever present voices in his head telling how to do it, use the knife good and slow, slice him up so that his innards fell out and the blood flowed sweetly out. He would have heard the screams then.

'Yeah, much more satisfying,' thought Hank as his eyes glazed over fantasising about future deaths to come. He'd line them all up, trussed up like turkeys and take them out of the game one by one till there was only the demon-tainted Sam Winchester left to spoil.

Opening the glove compartment he pulled out the wrapped bundle of knives that he had honed to sharp perfection and hugged them lovingly to his chest. This is where his skill lie. Not with crude firearms. This is why his brother had wanted him along in the first place. To finely slice and dice out of the youngest Winchester's a confession to his part in the demonic war to come.

He laid the wrap onto the passenger seat and unravelled it to reveal a set of knives of varying sizes. Picking up a large knife he pricked the tip to his thumb fascinated as a crimson droplet appeared. "Not long till you taste Winchester blood,' he warned as he sucked his own away.

The first time his daddy had put a knife in his hand the rush had been immediate. They hurt so beautifully all the things out there. From the rabbits he would catch in snares and slowly skin alive, to the stolen puppies that would whimpers and screams as he hacked away at them. To the men and monsters he had faced that all fell easily to his knives Each killing made him stronger he told himself, allowing that voice that constantly whispered in his head to feel sated whenever the light would go out of a living creatures eyes for the last time.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o **

The cool spray of water felt good, getting rid of the sweat and grime that had settled on him since putting Bobby's house back into order.

Sam couldn't keep back a giggle imagining the older man's reaction if he had come back to find his nice clean home upturned the way it had been.

He hadn't realised the water had run cold till he felt the shivers going through his body. Sighing he stopped the shower and stared to dry off, feeling suddenly sluggish as his energy levels seemed to dip as fast as the waning sun. His head felt fuzzy and his mouth was still dry.

Gingerly he inspected his side and saw a slight pull in a few of the stitches on one of the wounds. "Great!" he muttered to himself grabbing at a tube of antiseptic cream and smearing a liberal dose over the reddening area. "He is going to be so pissed."

Slapping a clean dressing on he wondered how he would be able to forego that the usual wound inspection that Bobby insisted on doing three times a day. He really didn't want the man ragging on his ass again. The man was worse than a mother hen. The sooner Dean got back and sprung him from here the better.

Tiredly he pulled back on his jeans from earlier and padded back to his room for a clean shirt. As he shrugged it back on his broken wrist rebelled and he growled in pain before his brow creased on realising the dog was still barking.

Picking up his gun he opened the window and eyed the excitable dog. It looked huge in the growing darkness, black body seeming to mushroom out as he stared down at him. The dog growled up at him and Sam's eyes went as wide as saucers as it seemed to grow even taller.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

His spine tingled as he drew to a stop outside his yard, eyes carefully searching out the deepening shadows for any threat. Something felt off and he wound down his window and whistled for his dog. He came flying towards the truck white flecks of foam around his muzzle ramming the door with his head. Alarmed Bobby quickly wound up the window just before Rumsfield smacked his head into it leaving a smudge of spittle over the glass as he fell heavily back to the dirt.

Struggling back onto his feet the furious dog worried at a tire before deciding he preferred brute force and hit the driver's door again with enough force to rock the truck.

"What the hell," gasped out Bobby and hastily pulled out his gun from the glove compartment.

A shot rang out from up high and the dog gave out a high pitched whine before running back into the shadows.

A voice shouted out after the retreating dog, "Bad doggy, bad bad doggy. I told you to play it cool dude."

Slowly Bobby craned his neck upwards the voice and his eyes rested on the roof of the house and his mouth went dry with fear.

Standing precariously on the knave of the roof was Sam, smiling down at him waving his gun around, "Hey Bobby wanna watch me fly?"

_TBC_

So don't kill me as I leave this on a bit of cliffie! But hopefully I will update a little bit faster next time. Rozzy


	10. Chapter 10

Usual disclaimers apply. All mistakes are woefully mine. (And yes Sifi as requested I have managed to get some bare fleshed Sammy moments for you as far as decency would allow). So on with the show…. Rozzy.

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 10: Big brother is back**

Joshua was content to ride shotgun with Dean at the wheel as it allowed his mind to race ahead in anticipation on meeting up with his brother again. It had been a good five years since he had last seen the youngest Winchester up close and personal and he wondered what changes had occurred with the boy.

The last time he had seen him the kid was near as tall as his dad, skinny as a rake, and with enough fire in his belly to make it interesting to be around when he and his dad sparked off against each other.

'Gotta love the kid for having the guts and the strength of will to defy the mighty John Winchester.' confessed Joshua to himself praying that he still possessed that same feistiness for the battle ahead to come.

Finding a reason to break the silence between them he asked of Dean, "So I haven't seen that brat of a brother of yours in years. Has he changed much?"

Dean for his part openly smirked, "Hell no. The geek still has the biggest bleeding heart on the block. Should have been born a girl…"

Joshua's face stretched into a bitter grin. The kid always had way too much heart, a fault his father had tried so hard to break him off and failed. "Yeah Sam was always different from us hard-nosed bastards."

Throwing him a sharp glance Dean's lips narrowed dangerously. "You better not be feeding into all that crap about his destiny and him going darkside…."

Joshua quickly shook his head in denial, "Nah man, the Sam Winchester I know hasn't one mean bone in his body. So that's why it's so hard to think of him leading this life now. Like me, like all other screwed up hunters out there. You have to be one mean sonofabitch to survive in the world we live in."

"He holds his own," murmured Dean fingers gripping the steering wheel harder "He's a Winchester when it comes down to it."

Joshua rubbed his nose awkwardly to offset the maudlin feelings breaking through, "Call me a sad old idiot but it just makes my guts ache. I thought him safely out of it all. Now he's caught up in demon central and it just isn't fair Dean. Just isn't right."

Dean didn't respond eyes focused intently on the road ahead trying to drown out the other man's heartfelt confession which mirrored his own feelings. His brother really didn't deserve the life he had been dragged back into or what the yellow eyed Demon had in mind for him. None of this was Sam's fault. None of it.

Feeling an overwhelming need to hear his brother's voice and the comfort that came with it Dean reached for his phone and dialled his cell.

After a minute his stomach started to do flip-flops when there was no answer and he muttered under his breath. 'Come on Sammy answer your goddam phone.'

He tried calling the house next but was again met with the same response. His brother wasn't picking up. Sam always picked up.

Sucking in a steadying breath Dean dropped the phone back in to his lap and pressed his foot further down on the gas pedal ignoring the cocked eyebrow flung in his direction as Joshua felt the tug of the seat belt against his chest

Pulling the seatbelt lower down Joshua turned once again back to Dean, "Take it we're not stopping for beer anymore? You heard what Singer said if I turned up empty handed…"

Dean gave him a quick glare before turning his eyes back to the road ahead, "Forget the stupid beer Sam's not answering his cell, something's up."

"Kid could just be sleeping. Bobby said he had a late night last night after all," offered up Joshua in explanation though the worry couldn't be kept from his eyes.

"Come on Josh since when have you known my brother to sleep through a phone ringing."

"I'll call Bobby, see where's he at," grunted back Joshua already pressing the speed dial feeling the fear rippling off Dean into him.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

In a desperate dash Bobby Singer had managed to get himself out of his truck into his house and haul himself breathlessly up on to roof in record breaking time. As he got breathlessly to his feet on the slippery slate his knees locked, fear rooting him to the spot as he caught sight of Sam and all he could think was. 'Holy bloody crap.'

With his back to him the tall figure stood in a stretch reaching with gun in hand for something in the empty sky precariously close to the guttering. His open shirt fluttered in the strengthening breeze but in contrast his normally wild hair was plastered to his skull damp with sweat.

"Hey Sam," called out Bobby softly not wanting to startle his young charge, "What yer doing?"

Swivelling around at the call of his name Sam grinned wildly at the older man eyes bright, pupils too large and his face flushed, "Gonna fly..."

Shaking his head in disbelief Singer realised straight away that the kid was tripping on something. Whatever it was he would have to find out later as his first priority was to stop the youngest Winchester from going over the edge of the roof. "No man, you can't fly. Come on step back a bit."

Sam threw him an indignant look, "Can too. Saunders threw me down the elevator shaft and I flew then."

Sucking in a calming breath Bobby cocked an eyebrow in surprise. Sam had been decidedly reticent about his experiences with the psychotic ghost and learning that he had chucked down an elevator shaft made his blood run cold. "Listen. You. Cannot . Fly."

He was met with a full pout as Sam shook his head, "Yeah I can, got to go up to them."

Watching Sam weave slightly his knees unlocked and he took a step towards asking, "Fly up where dude?"

Sam's bottom lip quivered as he responded apologetically, "To mom, to Jess. Tell them that I'm sorry…"

"Jess?" Bobby sucked back his grief for the boy noticing the blown pupils and heavy sheen on his face and he was left wondering just what shit had sent him and the dog crazy whilst he was away.

Beckoning to him with an outstretched hand Bobby tried to reason with him before he did something stupid, "They wouldn't want you to hurt yourself and that's what's gonna happen if you fall head first to the ground. Lets get you back inside…"

Sam drew back and eyed the older man with a distrustful look blinking through the sweat dripping from his brow.

Wiping the back of his hand across his too dry mouth he backed another inch away from Bobby licking his lips as his unrelenting thirst made itself felt again. "Nah, don't want to. Done with you telling me what to do all day long. You're bossy just like Dean…"

Sensing how dangerously skittish Sam was the older hunter tried to refrain from any sudden movements and kept his voice low and calm, "Sorry Sam, but you know Dean will freak if he sees you up here readying to jump off the roof right."

"Not jumping…told you I'm going to fly." huffed back Sam indignantly before his eyes travelled back to the dark night sky. "Have to do something right."

Bobby pursed his lips realising that he was no nearer to getting Sam under control and the softly-softly tactics were getting him nowhere. "Don't know what stuff you've dropped kid but I ain't about to watch you splatter your brains on the ground just so that you can atone for something you haven't done."

Nodding his head furiously Sam took a step away, "You don't see it? That I'm cursed. I got them all killed, mom, Jess too, Aaron, Etta, Jim, Caleb and…."

He didn't finish to say his father's name his eyes glittering dangerously. His chin fell to his chest as he struggled to keep the tears from falling and he snuffled back his pain.

The soft splatter of raindrops broke the silence and Bobby groaned out loud. This was the last thing he needed, a strung out Sam on a wet slippery roof and he tried to keep his voice level, "Come on dude, they wouldn't want you to do this."

"You think they won't want me to come?" stuttered out Sam blinking anxiously up at the stars as he thought on the man's words before drawing to the conclusion that he was at fault again, "They must all hate me just like dad did."

"They never hated you boy, especially your daddy." Bobby dared to take a step closer wanting to be in hand reaching distance if the boy took another stumble backwards.

Sam stood still eyes unfocused looking beyond Bobby gun held loosely in his hand, "Never proud of me, never a good son…went to hell because of me."

"No you're wrong son…"

Sam flinched at his words and Bobby knew instantly he had used the wrong endearment. "I'm sorry Sam. Come on let me just get you back inside. Please. For me."

Fingers picked idly at his dressing on his side before Sam raised his head to lock eyes knowingly with Bobby suddenly frighteningly lucid as he whispered back, "Shouldn't, it's not safe for you if I do. You should leave me be just like dad did all those years. He knew it was safer for them, for Dean to be away from me."

"Oh for pity sake that ain't true Sammy. Your dad loved yer…"

A dark smile lifted Sam's features as he leant in and whispered conspiratorially, "Ya think? He knew the demon was coming to Palo Alto and didn't warn me, expected me to burn up just like Jess, just like mom. No more bad son to worry about right?"

Bobby's mouth fell open at hearing the wounds exposed that Sam had internalised for so long. Shaking his head in denial, not wanting to believe that John would, could have ever held such a notion about his baby boy he felt his heart freeze.

Before he could muster up a response Sam had danced another step away from him his dark mood vanishing as quickly as a lighter one took over. "Do you think if I fly high enough I can eat all the pretty candy sparkling in the sky?"

Bobby looked hastily up at the modest twinkling of stars that peaked out from the cover of clouds. He shook his head desperate to get to Sam before he made good his threat. "No Sam. Like Dean said no sugar after nightfall…"

The pout returned and Sam stared daggers at him, "Dean's such a jerk, always has to spoil my fun."

Ignoring his words Singer anxiously took a step forwards but in his haste his boot slipped sideways on the wet slate and he fell hard onto his knees with a loud grunt of pain with Sam's laughter, high pitched and manic, ringing in his ears.

"Oops," Sam managed to muster out between continued giggles as he watched Singer struggle back on his feet, "Not me you have to worry about falling head first here is it old man."

As if noticing the man's appearance for the first time Sam suddenly stopped sniggering and looked in alarm at Bobby. Jabbing his gun in his face he gasped out, "Damn man when did you head get so freaking ginormous?"

Bobby froze at seeing the gun trained on him and watched as Sam's eyes went as wide as saucers, "Wow dude if it grows any bigger its gonna go pop for sure."

Sam's lips twitched before he dissolved into another fit of giggles as the cartoon imagery of his friend's head exploding from his shoulders in a shower of pink glop played out in his mind's eye, "Jeez that would make a hell of a mess wouldn't it? Nurse Hatchett would have such a fit…"

Nodding his agreement Bobby swallowed back bile before carefully reaching out for the gun pointed dangerously at him. From lax fingers he was able to retrieve it and he hastily shoved it into the back of his waist. Next he dared to grab at Sam's forearm to hold on tightly determined to drag him away from the edge and the long drop below.

Studying Sam he had seen enough bad trips way back in the sixties and seventies to know that what the boy was experiencing was chemical induced and sadly he asked, "What the hell have you taken here boy? Never thought you'd be stupid enough to do hardcore shit like this."

Sam shrugged back his confusion before huffing out a denial. "I'm not stupid… Just my pills. Nothing naughty."

As Sam squirmed at being pulled so forcibly away Bobby muttered under his breath, "Ain't nothing but naughty that's got you into this mess."

Sam sniggered and leant in to whisper a confession into Bobby's ear, "Naughty Sammy gave Rummy magic cereals now he's grown as big as the house."

There was a brief pause before he frowned and added, "Don't know why he wants to eat me now though. Greedy mutt would eat you to…."

Suddenly he pulled determinedly out of Bobby's reach and dashed back to lean dangerously over the parapet of the roof and waggled a finger. "Bad dog. I told you no eating humans. No eating Bobby."

Singer hissed his alarm as the youngest Winchester continued to dance along the edge of the roof and tried to snatch once more at him to pull him back. He came away with only Sam's shirt in his hand and he shook his head in frustration.

His voice barked out his annoyance next, "Sam Winchester get your sorry ass away from the bloody edge now as that stupid dog ain't gonna eat us."

Sam's face puckered in confusion as he continued to search the ground below for the hell hound formerly named Rumsfield and he couldn't stop a shiver ripple over his bare chest.

May be it was the sudden contact of the chilling wind against bare skin but Sam on realising that he was now shirtless spun back and gave his mentor a startled look on noticing the shirt in his hands. "Why'd you do that for Bobby? I put a nice clean one so you wouldn't fuss."

Bobby shook his head tiredly and instead of arguing with the boy made another grab for him, using the chimneystack to brace himself against as he pulled the larger man's heavier frame away from the long drop below.

They both slid to the floor onto their butts in a tangle of arms and legs but Bobby kept good his hold around Sam's waist his back against the brick chimney stack as an anchor.

Sam grinned goofily at him, eyes dancing over him wondering when the man had developed such a weird look, "Wow your face is all wriggly Bobby-Bob-Bob with lots of ugly little snakey thingies."

When Bobby merely snorted his disbelief Sam eyes grew even wider in alarm, "Dude I think your beard's possessed."

Sam's fingers snatched at the hair that covered the older man's top lip eyes totally focused on the task of plucking off the slippery snakes swarming over his face.

Bobby at feeling the hairs being ripped from his moustache batted his hand away. "Hey would you leave it alone. Whatever you took this is one weird bad ass trip you're having…"

Sam still eyeing the swirling mass of miniature snakes hissing at him gave a small shudder. "Oh man you've got a really bad infestation. Gonna need an exorcism or something."

A light bulb pinged inside Bobby's head, "Yeah kid that's what we need to do. Lets get down from here and you can help me get rid of the pesky critters. Okay?"

Glad to be of use again Sam nodded his head enthusiastically, "Okey-dokey. Holy water should get rid of those ugly wriggly thingies and if that doesn't work we could use a blowtorch and send their crispy hides back to hell…."

Coughing back an expletive Bobby stared back at the kid, "No blowtorch Sam. Holy water will do just fine."

Sam smiled brightly back at him, "Okay."

Not for the first time in his life Bobby Singer felt the power of what a simple smile could do to his insides and the fierce protective love he felt for the boy was reignited.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hank Murdoch heard the impala before she came into view and ducked down despite the cover of the thicket he had parked behind. He was not going to risk being tagged by the sharp-eyed hunter in the black car. Dean Winchester had earned himself enough of a reputation for him to be ultra careful with now.

As the impala screamed past him he waited a moment before sitting up again then picked up his phone and smiled as the familiar voice down came back down line. "We on man?"

"Yeah Freddie fun time begins."

The eager voice down the line mirrored his own excitement, "I can't believe it. For real?"

"Better believe it. Big brother is back. All three bunnies are down the hole readying to be snared."

"So how long do we wait?" Freddie queried anxiously. "Do you want me to get in position now?"

It was his first full on hunt and he was desperate to get into the thick of it. He had only watched Hank use his skills on animals before and had never seen him work on a man. The potential thrill of seeing him steal the life out of the three men they were hunting down made his blood fizz in excitement in his veins.

Sensing his need Hank purred back, "Patience. Stay put. Make sure they don't try to bolt by the back exit."

"But you gave Winchester the envelope and I put the stuff it in the water tank like you said…all three will be high as a kite soon enough."

Hank hastily shot down his eager assumption, "Don't presume anything here. Remember how stupid Ade had been in thinking that he had the Winchesters under control. Idiot ended up dead soon enough."

Freddie sucked in a breath recalling the frill of how Hank's confession on how his brother and cousin had died had only further fuelled his obsession with death. "But I want to see you hurt them Hank. You promised."

"Have I ever broken a promise to you Frederico?" He didn't wait for Freddie to answer. "Look dude we give it another hour then we can both go in and finish the job. Dean will be so busy wondering what's up with his brother he'll be too distracted to hear us coming to make our little house call."

Marvelling at his partner's confidence he needed to hear more, "God I hate waiting like this. Tell me who you're going to do first? Tell me slowly. Let me enjoy it."

Hank smiled enjoying his partner's enthusiasm. "So I was thinking I'd let you strip them naked, have them grovelling at our feet as you kick the shit out of the brother's pretty behinds before I start in on them."

Freddie frowned, jealousy pricking at him, "You think them pretty?"

Hank Murdoch quickly came back, "Damn sight prettier than Singer for sure." He chuckled confessing, "I'm not saying them Winchester boys have been daubed with the ugly brush because that ain't true, but none of them hold a candle to you."

Freddie preened at the compliment his jealousy tempered for the moment, "So what will you do next?

Hank Murdoch cocked an eyebrow then smiled slowly, "Next? Oh man we do Singer first. Slit his throat. Not deep mind you, just enough to let him bleed out slow till he gurgles out his last drowning to death on his own blood. It will be fun making those Winchester brats watch his final last breath before we start on the older boy. Start with the toes if you like babe and work our way up."

"Oh yeah I like."

Hank laughed before continuing, "We'll take his tongue last and we will make Sam watch everything so that he knows truly what hell has in store for him. The demon spawn is going to beg for me to kill him before I'm through with his tainted body."

"Yeah man," cooed Freddie salaciously down the line, "Tell me about him, about that bad boy Sam."

Hank warmed up to the task of storytelling and whispered down the line, "Tall, real tall. Not what I was expecting at all. He looked so innocent with his long wavy brown hair and soft pretty eyes. You can see that their brothers though, he and Dean. Both have the same deceptive green eyes that makes you think them harmless. Big mistake. I'm not gonna let his pretty eyes stop me."

"When you gouge out his traitorous eyes can I have them?" gasped back Freddie in delight, "Please. Can I?"

Hank merely nodded his agreement before enticingly adding, "Did I mention the freak has dimples deeper than a moon's crater."

Freddie's smile broke fresh across his face and he stuttered down the line. "Oh god dimples too?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Bobby started to walk a more pliant Sam back over to the roof to the hatch when a familiar growl made them both freeze. The impala's heavy thrum as it approached the house was too much for Sam to ignore and he artfully ducked out of Singer's reach once again and stumbled back to the edge.

Dean pulled up by Bobby's truck taking in at once the abandoned vehicle with its driver door left open and the alarm bells jingled loud in his head.

Joshua had taken stock of the scene too and was out of the car before Dean had time to switch off the engine gun in hand dark eyes scouting the surrounding piles of junked out cars for danger.

"Dean!" called out an excited voice from above and two sets of eyes immediately tracked up to the roof. Sam's grinned happily down at them both, "Bobby said you were coming back."

"What the hell are you doing up there? " demanded Dean staring up at him in open disbelief.

His eyes tried to process the scene of his brother in nothing but a pair of jeans dangerously close to falling off the top of Bobby's house. After all Sammy was supposed to be tucked up in bed with a cup of cocoa right? What he was not supposed to be doing was standing on top of the roof half naked in the middle of the night.

"Holy shit," gasped out Joshua on taking in the sight of the bare-chested youngest Winchester as he wobbled precariously by the edge of the roof. Biting the inside of his cheeks the holder hunter heart pounded in his chest and he wondered just where the hell Singer was.

Another voice desperate called out from behind Sam gave Joshua his answer, "Dean get your sorry excuse for a behind up here now. Before the fool boy really does fall off."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"How much longer?" whinged Freddie as he eyed the backend of broken cars in the dimly lit scrap yard. He had listened to Hank reel off a whole list of punishments that they could do to the Winchesters and he was tired of not being able to put them into action.

Hank Murdoch senses his impatience didn't want to risk him screwing up the plan by going into early, "Another forty minutes. Don't mess things up dude, stay in the stupid car till I tell you. Don't do a cousin Gil on me here."

"Okay, okay." Freddie swallowed realising that he was pushing to hard and that when you pushed someone like Hank Murdoch pain always followed. "Sorry man…. Just getting excited. I want to play with them so badly…"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

As Dean bounded up the stairs two at time he wondered to himself if his brother's childhood Spiderman issues had returned again as him being on the frigging roof was not supposed to be part of the agenda for his recovery.

His mind also kept screaming at him was what the hell had Bobby been doing to let him get up there in the first place.

On hauling himself on to the roof his heart lurched into his mouth on seeing Singer struggling with his brother. Immediately all thoughts of recriminations fell away as he watched the older man battle to keep his brother from going head first over the edge. "Will you bloody stop squirming or we'll both be going over."

"Sam. Stop," Dean managed to call out and was rewarded when his brother's head swivelled to him and a broad smile spilt his face. Dean sucked in a breath seeing the unnatural flush on his brother's cheeks and he called out gently, "Sammy?"

There was a long pause before Sam gasped out in genuine delight, "You came back."

Dean merely nodded too intent on getting his brother back to safety. In two long strides he was at his side and saw the look of relief ripple across Bobby's face as he wrapped both arms around his brother's bare waist in a tight hug. "Come on Sammy this is not the time to be tap dancing near naked on the roof.

Sam sniggered at the suggestion, "Wasn't tap dancing you jerk, just readying to fly is all."

Dean swallowed back his disbelief and saw the same look in Bobby's haunted eyes. He was thankful when Sam allowed him to freely steer him back to the centre of the roof and the open hatch.

A voice called up, "Do you want me to come up?"

"No Joshua, stay put. I'll pass Sammy down to you," came back Dean.

"Okay."

Sam shook his head and leaned into his brother, "You have to help Bobby first, he got himself infested."

As Dean watched him brother waggle an eyebrow over at the drained hunter suggestively he looked at him in confusion hoping for some answers.

Bobby growled tiredly back, "Kid's tripping on something so lets just get him down before he goes superman on us again."

Hissing his disbelief Dean's eyes snatched back to his brother's face, taking in the blown pupils and clammy skin with alarm. "Jesus Sammy – what the hell did you do?"

"Nothing." sniffed back Sam now looking down the hatch with suspicion now. "I don't wanna go down there. Its dark."

"Its okay. Joshua is there."

Sam's eyes narrowed and he tried to lurch away from the hatch but Dean's grip was too strong and he found himself back by the hatchway.

"Big mouthed sonofabitch… gonna punch his lights out," muttered Sam in warning.

Patience worn thin Dean smacked him lightly over the back of his head eliciting a snort of surprise and he growled out, "Behave."

Manhandling his brother Dean expertly swung him over the opening dropping his long legs through the hatchway so that Joshua could grab at him and haul him to safety.

There came from below a muffled grunt as Joshua took on Sam's full weight and Dean held his breath hoping that he could support it. The last thing they needed was for his brother to end up hurting himself even more if he took a tumble down the stairs.

"Got him Dean," snapped out Joshua who steadied Sam against the wall in the hallway keeping him away from the stairs.

Dean ducked his head through the hatch and threw a grin of relief, " Thanks dude. I'll be down in a second."

Joshua merely nodded back his eyes totally on Sam, trying to take in the changes to him. Taller than him by a good half a foot the boy now towered over him, and he had packed on muscles onto his lean frame also. Kid weighed a freaking ton.

Eyes flicking over his bare torso he could see the damage that Dean had hinted at and hissed through clenched teeth at the sight. Patting his shoulder he smiled grimly at him, "Hey kiddo long time no see."

Dean at that moment made an appearance landing lightly onto the landing just in time to see Sam's response. "Not long enough."

Eyes wide in astonishment Dean watched his brother's large fist collide with Joshua's jaw to send him flying onto his butt leaving him more than a little dazed.

Dean raced up and put himself in between them, a warning hand braced against Sam's chest to stop him from throwing another punch. "Stop it Sam. What is it with you wanting to punch every hunter you meet lately?"

Joshua got back up rubbing his jaw tenderly before laughing softly, "Its okay Dean. Had that one coming for a good few years. Right Sam?"

Sam nodded back at him and all the anger that had been holding on to since he was fifteen vanished at seeing the broad grin on Joshua's face. Smiling wearily in return he managed to whisper back, "Been a real long time old man."

Joshua slipped by Dean and drew Sam into a tight hug slapping his back warmly. "Like I said its real good to see you again Sam, and less of the old if you don't mind."

Bobby now back off the roof coughed out, "As charming as this reunion is lets get the boy into his room and try and work out what's been happening here."

Dean didn't need to be told twice and steered his rapidly tiring brother back to his room. Sam looked down at him squinting to see him clearly for the first time in a week, "Dude you look like crap."

Dean shook his head, "Could say the same about you brother. You up to tell me exactly what you've been up to today. Trying to fly off the roof was sheer madness."

Bobby added in as Sam looked ready to drop, "Don't know what he's took but he's crashing now. "

"My brother doesn't do drugs ever. Mr squeaky clean remember." admonished Dean as he struggled to support his brother's weight whilst batting away all offers of support when Joshua and Bobby came forward.

Scratching at his stubbled chin Bobby shrugged, "Well its not just Sam. The dog has gone plumb crazy too. Head butted the tow truck before Sam scared him off."

"Me bad," confessed Sam dragging Dean's head down to whisper loud in his ear, "Broke the rules and now Gestapo Bob is gonna be so mad! Don't tell him will ya Dean. Don't tell him."

"Tell him what?" huffed out Dean as got him to the bed and pushed him gently down onto the mattress. Sitting next to him he studied him for a moment, his heart beating loudly in his chest as he noted how truly awful his brother looked. Pushing back the wet strands of hair from his forehead he asked again as Sam's snuggled into the comfort of the pillow, "Sam, come on. What did you do?"

Stifling a yawn he curled onto his side and looked droopy eyed at him as his need for sleep took over, "You know."

Dean noting how his brother had started to shiver drew a blanket over him, resting his hand on his shoulder needing the contact as much as his brother did, "No Sammy I really don't."

"Oh," said Sam softly realising that he might have left something out of his confession. "I was stupid. Let Rummy indoors and he near wrecked the place when that man came calling."

Dean's hand froze on his shoulder, "What man Sammy?"

Sam lifted his head up and locked eyes with his brother. "Said his name was Hank. Blond haired pseudo cowboy type. Boots and all. Nasally voice, small piggy eyes and real short. Shorter even than Bobby."

Bobby snorted in the doorway at the slight but Joshua sucked in a breath already clued into who Sam was talking about and not liking it one bit.

Bruskly he pushed passed Singer and strode over to the bed clamping a warning hand on Dean's shoulder. "Damn it boy it sounds like Hank Murdoch came and paid your brother a visit."

The blood drained from his face and Dean gasped out, "I thought they locked him up as a teenager? After he sliced up that waitress back in Houston. I thought he was labelled a true sociopath and they threw away the key"

Biting his lip Joshua shook his head, "You would have thought so but like they say money talks. His mom's family has pockets of the stuff and managed to pull a few strings and got him 'therapy' as they liked to call it. Juvie record got wiped clean I heard."

Dean paled further recalling the awful stories of Hank's teenage progression from animal mutilations to what he did to that poor waitress. The thought that he had been alone with is brother sent shivers down his spine.

Sensing where his mind was at Bobby sighed, "I should have never left your brother alone. I just didn't think…goddamit I almost got the boy killed."

Squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay Dean shook his head, "Don't Bobby. Don't. This was my mistake. I should have stayed with him. Not go hunt down a ghost."

Sam oblivious to their concerns yawned already half asleep as he nestled into the pillow, "Cowboy Hank left you an envelope. Put it safely away in my back pocket or the stupid dog would have eaten that too. Near bit my backside off to get at it."

Dean went to fumble for the manila envelope but Joshua snatched his hand back, "No don't touch it. I've got a good guess why Sammy here is feeling less than stellar right now."

The penny dropped and Dean looked back at his brother appalled. "The fucking bastard drugged him? With an envelope?"

"For sure the little bastard inherited his intelligence from his mother side of the family. Daddy Murdoch's Neanderthal gene skipped a generation with his youngest and he went on to do a degree at Dallas. Biochemistry I heard."

"So the loon's a whacked out chemist or something?"

"Well whatever he cooked up it double whammied Sammy here and Rumsfield," piped back Bobby still feeling the guilt eating away at him. Watching Sam starting to drift off he realised just how Dean had been feeling all these years. The overwhelming need to keep the kid safe just kept on growing inside of him till he felt readying to burst.

Joshua shrugged not sure of the answer but he did know Hank Murdoch would have had enough connection and money to get what he wanted to manufacture all kind of nasty stuff, "You'd best be checking the rest of the place Bobby. He wouldn't just stop with a simple envelope."

Dean and Bobby both turned to look at him and voiced the same concern. "The water."

"Shit! Sam gave the pup some water. Must have drunk some himself." muttered Bobby before his face puckered up in annoyance, "Damn it I'm gonna have to drain the whole freaking tank."

As he turned to leave to check on his property he threw a warning over his shoulder, "No one but me gets to strangle the bastard yer here me. I'll teach him to mess with what is mine. With Sammy, my house, and my dog."

"I promise no more magic cereal for the puppy," whined back Sam on hearing Bobby reference Rummy again before shoving his face into the pillow slowly succumbing to his body's need for rest.

Scrubbing a weary hand over his face hunkered down to be nearer to his brother studying his face as he slipped easily into sleep. Slowly the knots of concern on his brow eased away and the familiar look of carefree innocence returned. Rubbing a thumb over his brothers hand he was unable to keep his mask in place and a tear fell. "I'm so sorry little brother. We'll get his sorted. I promise."

His hands fisting Joshua's faced darkened at hearing the distress in the normally unreadable older Winchester. He had come along to help and wasn't about to let the boys down now. Sam wasn't out of danger and he needed to galvanise his brother into action. "Dean listen he can't stay here. This room is way to easy to access. A line of salt isn't going to stop the likes of Hank Murdoch."

Dean shuddered at the clinical statement but knew the truth behind it, tiredly he nodded and looked up at Joshua, "I know man. It's like all my life it was my job to keep him safe against all them fuggly supernatural creatures out there and I do. But humans Joshua are something else. How can I keep him alive when madmen like Murdoch are after him."

"You kill the bastards Dean. That's what you do. You kill them before they can get to you. Before they even have a chance to draw a line on Sammy."

Swallowing back his surprise at the man's vehemence he knew what he was being told to do was as near to cold bloodied murder as he was ever going to get but as he glanced back at Sam his heart stuttered. "It would destroy him Joshua. People dying because of him. No matter how bad they are."

Huffing out his chest Joshua shook his head aware of the dilemma his friend faced. "What he don't know can't hurt him."

"Well that's a fucking stupid thing to say," snapped back Dean. "Its because of all the lies that I weaved that he's in this mess. Bobby's right I have to tell him. Let him know the truth."

Joshua for all the fire that went behind his words caved in nodding his understanding. "Look lets get him down to the basement and baton down the hatches with him safely inside. You can fess up all to the squirt later when he's more likely to be able to take on board what your saying."

"Okay. Lets get these jeans off him first. I don't like the thought of that crazy envelope anywhere near him."

Joshua chortled as they both took a leg and started to pull the jeans from his long legs, "You know if your brother was awake he would have a fit us stripping him like this."

Sniggering in return Dean, "At least the kid had the decency to put on his boxers. Spares us an eyeful I can tell you."

"Its nice the way you're bragging about your baby brother Dean and all," snapped back Joshua with a broad grin on his face.

Rolling his eyes at the suggestion Dean gave one final tug and the jeans came away. Curiosity won out and he lifted the envelope out of the back pocket with his knife careful not to come in contact with the paper. It dropped onto the bedside table and both men peered down at it both shrugging in tandem when nothing unusual could be seen.

With a raised eyebrow Dean pinned the envelope to the table with his elbow and carefully worked with his knife to slit the top and sides. When finished he lifted up the flat and his mouth fell open. The photo inside made his stomach roll, "Sweet Jesus its Anderson. Murdoch's left him as his own personal calling card."

Joshua nodded his mouth suddenly dry. Having found the dead hunter he knew the state he had been left in. What surprised him now was in knowing that Hank Murdoch had a hold of him and that he hadn't hurt him even more.

Maybe the bastard was saving up playtime with Sam and his concern for the boys was intensified and he spat out, "Come on Dean. Get your brother to the basement. Now."

Stirred into action Dean quickly wrapped Sam in a blanket and lifted him over his shoulder grunting under the weight of him but refusing to let it stop him. This he could do for his brother he told himself. Get him to safety then sort out that psychotic little shit threatening to harm him.

Taking the steps carefully one at a time he could hear Joshua behind him cocking his gun and he was forced to ask, "You intend to just shoot the bastard? What if he can tell us about other crazy bad ass hunters out there looking to hurt my brother? Putting a bullet in his skull isn't exactly conducive to talking you know."

A wicked grin split the older man's face, "Hey I've still got good few tricks in the bag. Don't you worry I can deal with the likes of Murdoch when he come a-knocking. I'll make him regret ever hearing the name Winchester."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hank picked out his favourite knife and twirled it through his fingers. With Freddie in place acting as sharpshooter it was just about time for him to make an appearance on Bobby Singers doorstep and make himself more formally known.

_TBC_

_One final chapter to go and things will be wrapped up. Feedback as always very much appreciated. _


	11. Chapter 11

_Usual disclaimer applies. Have to confess that the ghost of Ben Anderson dug his long bony dead fingers into my brain in the last chapter and rubbed out Hank's companion name of Freddie and turned it to his own. Bad ghostie!! I went back and fixed that slightly spooky error and now we have Freddie back in all his human glory, with a bowl of holy water by my PC just in case Ben tries to do hinky things again! _

_Again thanks for such wonderful reviews. This chapter is a bit of a beast but I wanted to finish it here as I'm off on my hols tomorrow (Luxor – yippee!). _

**Becoming too visible **

**Chapter 11: A car yard is not a play area**

The basement air was musty, tainted by the fungal spores creeping up the walls in a dark stain. Dean screwed his face up at the smell his eyes narrowing further at the sight of the cluttered storage area.

"What a freaking mess," he hissed out stalling at the head of the stairs. This really wasn't the most sanitary of places to leave his still healing brother but he was out of options now. Sam needed a place of safety and Bobby Singer's dank and cluttered basement fitted the bill as bad as it was.

As he adjusted the heavy weight of his brother across his shoulder before he took the first tentative step down he chewed on his bottom lip in concentration. All he knew was that he needed enough time to get the last of the inbred Murdochs sorted out once and for all and maybe, just maybe, Sam would then never have to find out about them and their whacked out beliefs.

Joshua behind him couldn't hide his own shock at the ceiling high mounds of rusting car parts and disintegrating cardboard crammed full from a lifetime of hoarding and gave a soft low whistle, "Damn. Singer must be a closet kleptomaniac. Just look at all the garbage he's been stashing down here."

"Better not be any freaking rats chewing a hole in all this crap," muttered Dean as he reached the bottom step his eyes searching every corner for any tell-tell signs of the vermin he so disliked.

Joshua aware that time was against them neatly side stepped around Dean and quickly shrugged off his long jacket to lay it on bare patch of floor to protect Sam from the filth and cold under foot.

Dean nodded his appreciation and as gently as he could, with Joshua acting as an extra pair of hands, laid his still out of it brother on top of the thin mattress. Following Joshua's example he took off his jacket and bundled it up as a pillow to rest Sam's head on.

A sigh escaped as Sam's face made contact with the pillow. Instinctively his slim fingers curled into the leather, face nuzzling into the familiar scent of his brother's jacket.

Dean watched him stir and froze by his side, his stomach churning as he willed him to stay asleep and remain oblivious of the fight to come. _Stay asleep little brother. You don't need to know what I'm going to do next._

Sam for a moment dared to stir his nose wrinkling as if aware of his new surroundings before he turned onto his side, tucking his long legs up to his tummy and snuggled further into leather jacket enjoying the comfort it gave him.

Dean squatting next to him he pulled the blanket tightly around and watching with relief as his brother fell easily back into his drug fuelled slumber.

A soft smile lit up his eyes as he recalled how a baby Sam would suck on his thumb and rub his nose as he drifted off. That child had seemingly disappeared over many years but looking at him now traces still remained as Sam's fingers continued to clutch his pillow as he slept.

Joshua had stood back to give the brothers a brief few shared seconds before he asked, "You going to stay down here with him Dean?"

Dean rose back up quickly and shook his head, "Nah, I'll be more use up top. I want to make sure that bastard Murdoch doesn't get near him ever again."

Joshua pulled at his beard, eyes dark in thought. "Best hope that Sam doesn't wake up then. Last thing we need is him lumbering out in a middle of gun fight."

"Well I would suggest drugging him," sniped back Dean before smacking his forehead with his back of his hand and sarcastically adding, "But oh yeah he might just overdose with all those other freaking drugs floating through his system right now."

Joshua smirked back, "You know Dean I'd forgotten what a pissy little drama queen you can be at times."

"Bite me," smirked back Dean as he took one final look at his brother and headed back for the small flight of stairs. As it stood he had a mind to kill a man.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The ground underfoot was damp and he was careful to keep his approach as quiet as possible. Hank paused on seeing the comatose guard dog lying under the fender of a beat up rusting truck. Maliciously he grinned down at the dog but stilled his hand. Later on he told himself he would have some fun with the rotweiller but right now his main priority was Singer and the Winchester boys.

He heard Singer before he saw him, whistling lowfor his missing hound no doubt and his smile grew wider. The man was after all the first one he planned to take down. A little something for Freddie to play with, an entree whilst he served up the main course of tick-tack-toe with Dean Winchester's skin. Sam in all his wounded glory would be their shared dessert, a long slow feast that they both could enjoy in.

As he peeped around the corner he caught sight of the older hunter walking back to his tow-truck, his face set grim. Hank knew that Singer was no fool, no doubt aware of the game at hand, but still the older man had turned his back to him and in doing so had given up any hope of an advantage.

Reaching into the cab of his truck Bobby went to pull out his rifle from under his seat when a familiar sound made itself heard. The cocking of a hammer from directly behind his left ear made him instantly freeze.

"Mr Singer if you don't mind I would very much appreciate it if you let go of the rifle. Don't want to have to make a mess of your truck if I don't have to," whispered Hank as he pressed the tip of his snub nosed pistol into the base of Bobby's skull.

Sucking back a curse Bobby was forced to comply and let go of the rifle and Hank cooed his appreciation, "Good man, now turn around nice and slow."

Growling his dissatisfaction Bobby followed the instructions and turned to stand face to face with the last male member of the disreputable Murdoch clan. As he looked over the unremarkable man all he could think was that Sam had been right. Hank Murdoch really was a short ass and his top lip twitched into a smirk.

"Something you find amusing Mr Singer," demanded Hank a little put out by the bigger man's lack of fear. He was after all the one with a gun trained at the older man's head.

Singer couldn't keep his mouth shut and he thought to himself that the had been around Dean for far too long as the insults flew out, "Well its just hard to believe that you were cut from the same cloth as yer big brother. Yer daddy crossbreed with a midget maybe?"

Bobby clearly had struck a nerve and was rewarded with a sharp rap to the side of his head with the butt of the gun as Hank hissed out angrily, "You leave my momma out of it you nasty ugly man."

Crumpling to the ground Bobby didn't feel the following kicks to his belly as he had been knocked out instantly.

When his anger had vented enough cool reason took over and Hank knew he had to keep Bobby out of the fight until he had secured the house. With considerable effort he dragged his limp form down one line of stacked cars and hauled him into an empty trunk of a wrecked and rusting Buick.

Sweating freely he wiped a hand over his mouth and drew in drags of much needed air. "Stupid bastard needs to go a diet."

Bending over the helpless hunter he flipped him on to his stomach and yanked his hands behind his back. With practised ease he bound them together with duct tape before wrapping a length around his mouth. Patting him contemptuously on his cheek when he had finished he whispered, "Don't want you warning those brothers do we."

Looking one more time at the unconscious hunter in the trunk he whispered menacingly as he shut the trunk with a satisfying clunk, "I'll be back for you later. But now it's show-time for them freakoid boys you've been protecting."

Slipping silently forwards he made it round to the east side of the house. As he reached his goal he flipped open his cell, "Hey Freddie, Singer is the first one in the bag. He's tied up in a brown Pontiac Buick just west of the house. Marked the trunk with some silver duct tape. You best go pick him up for me if you get my drift."

"Oh hell man, try and stop me," came back Freddie breathless with excitement. "You going to get them Winchesters so that we can start the party good and proper?"

"You betcha… then we can finish this once and for all – ala HM style."

Hank flipped the phone off not waiting for his companion's response as he could already guess at what he was feeling. The thrumming of excitement coursing through his veins as the hunt played itself out made him feel a little giddy too. Thank god for Mick Reynolds and his falling out with Singer a few years back. With the bad blood that ran between the two former friends he was able to siphon off the additional intel he needed to pinpoint exactly the best spot to spring his attack.

Slipping his gun back into the holster at the back of his waist he felt inside his jacket pocket for his trusty knives. Reassuringly he fingered the top of each handle, counting three, before taking a steady breath to do what was needed next.

He never did like the dark or confined spaces but it was his one way in that Dean Winchester would never expect. Curling his fingers around the cool metal handle that led to the old coal cellar chute he had to smile to himself because as Singer pointed out he wasn't exactly endowed with the height gene that big brother Adrian had been blessed with but this time his small stature was going to work in his favour.

After leaving his little calling card with Sam earlier he could hazard a guess that either Dean was having a little trip of the bizarre of his own or as he secretly hoped would have been savvy enough not to get wasted. It would be less fun peeling his skin of him inch by inch if he was too doped up to feel it.

As he opened the hatch his heartbeat started to race at facing the utter blackness below. Pulling out his torch he aimed a beam of light down the shaft and he willed his heart to slow. He could endure the dark and filth if it meant getting the upper hand on the oldest Winchester. He may not have liked Adrian but he had to make this right for his brother, his daddy and more importantly his momma who had always expected the exceptional from him and nothing less.

Having her disappointed in him was worse than death itself.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hauling himself through the hatchway to the roof Joshua kept his large frame hunkered down as much as possible. With his rifle in hand he made his way over to the chimney stack and flopped down onto his belly. From up here he had the advantage of seeing anyone approaching the house and he could pick them off before they got anywhere near to hurting Johnny's boys.

As he lined the night sight on the rifle he nestled in for the waiting game ignoring the soft splatters of raindrops that fell down his bald head channelling into the back his neck in a pool of water. His shirt was soon damp, sticking to his skin but he shrugged it off. The loss of his jacket was a small price to pay he grunted to himself if it kept the boy warm and safe.

With over three decades of hunting under his belt his sharp eyes carefully scanned the graveyard of cars and came across only the sleeping form of a large dog. Bobby's errant little puppy no doubt he told himself before swinging the night sight down to the empty truck.

Noticing how the drivers door had been shut he guessed that Bobby had gotten what he needed from the truck and was already back in the house and quickly turned his attention back to the banks of scrapped cars that a whole world of hurt could be hiding behind.

Thankful that Dean had Bobby by his side he gave a small sigh. With both men inside he knew that hell itself would freeze over before either one of them let that little shit Murdoch or any of his cronies get to a vulnerable Sam.

His top lip curled at the idea of Murdoch getting to the sleeping Winchester and he readjusted his scope and started to scan the rest of the vast yard for any other signs of life. No one was getting into the house. Not on his watch.

His mind was tumbling over what Dean had asked earlier, that they hold off killing this sick son of bitch out to hurt his brother if it meant they could learn about any other hunters that might have their sights on him. It sounded perfectly logical in theory but in real life with the stakes so damn high he wasn't afraid of putting a bullet in the first sicko's head that dare take a pop at either boy.

Fire first, ask stupid questions later was his intention tonight. Dean could be as pissed as he liked with him, but having let down Sam once in the past he was going to make sure that he made up for it this time round.

**o0o0o0oo0o**

Having checked to make sure every door and window frame was secure Dean went about making sure his weapons were fully loaded. Now a few minutes later the familiar Glock in his hand felt nice and heavy, and with an additional gun at the back of his waist all he had to do now was wait. It was the waiting though that made his stomach turn with unease.

He eyed the clock to see that it had just gone past 9'0'clock and he checked his own watch against it with a frown. Just where the hell was Bobby? Just how long did it take for him to get his guns and a box of ammo from his truck and get back inside?

His senses were screaming loud in alarm. Something or someone had stopped Bobby from getting back in the house. Dreading what might have happened to him he knew he had to warn Josh.

'Please have you phone on vibrate,' he begged silently as he called not wanting to alert anyone to his friend's presence on the roof.

"Yeah Dean?" asked Joshua in a tight low whisper.

Dean exhaled a deep breath of relief at hearing the deep baritone voice before confessing, "I think Bobby's been taken out."

He didn't need to see Joshua to know how the man was feeling. Bobby was an anchor in their continuing shifting world of hunting that they all took for granted. His home was the only port of call that they ever felt safe in and for him to be taken out in his, their own backyard was just not right.

Finally Joshua whispered back, "No more kid gloves you here me Dean. I see something, someone I'm not keen on and I'm going for a headshot. Clear?"

Dean looked towards the basement door and nodded his agreement. "You do that old man."

Forget the Q & A session with Hank. If they had Bobby then Joshua was right no more Mister Nice Guy. He really did have a man to kill now.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was the most terrifying ten seconds of his life. Sliding in the darkness, feeling the fibrous brush of thick cobwebs cover his face, clogging his nostrils, his mouth, and he had to fight down the screams of sheer panic as his body hurtled down the tight tunnel. Into utter darkness.

When his feet hit the metal grill at the end of the chute he kicked out hard hoping to be free. Nothing happened and the panic swelled to suffocating proportions.

"Oh God," he gasped struggling to drag in oxygen as the grill did not budge and he was held prisoner inside the coal chute.

The sweat started to bubble on his skin as fear took over and adrenaline flushed through his veins as he kicked out hard again. This time the grill snapped open and he fell the final few feet to the cement floor below his chest heaving desperately as he dragged in the sweet air of freedom.

This was something he would never ever do again he told himself fiercely as he staggered back to his feet. Brushing off the sticky cobwebs from his face and hair his body juddered, "Stupid fuckwad Adrian. Always got me into the worse kind of scrapes even when dead."

Checking for his gun and knives to find them safely in place he started to swipe off the rest of the dirt and cloying cobwebs from his body and dared for the first time take in his surroundings. An eyebrow cocked in surprise at the stacked mounds of boxes and odds and end that left the room as junked out as the yard above.

His face wrinkled in disgust at viewing the discordant mess before he started to weave himself from the far wall through the tall stacks of rubbish to where the stairs were. He had a one to one with Dean Winchester to get over and done with.

Gun in hand he stopped short of the stairs eyes wide in disbelief before a slow appreciative smile lit up his face as he bent down to study the sleeping form of Sam Winchester.

Up close and personal he could see why so many other hunters had been taken in by his innocent appearance. Dark lashes framing almond eyes fluttered slightly as he dreamed, whilst his lionised features screamed his masculinity all softened by his thick wavy hair and parted cherry bud lips.

The boy was far too pretty a package to not feel that flush of desire that even Freddie was hard pressed to stir at times. Still his desire was tempered by the cold anger sitting in the pit of his belly as he watched him sleep. This boy was the cause of so much misery, for his own momma, his girlfriend and now that same curse had spilled out to touch what was his. His own family. His brother.

Even as Hank watched the one person he was intent on destroying the temptation to touch couldn't be resisted. He curled fingers longingly through Sam's thick damp hair and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his prey, before he traced tenderly down his brow, over the ridge of his nose to rest tantalisingly on his lips feeling the soft flutter of breath escape on to his finger tips

The pliant form beneath him was his one means to bring his brother to his knees. The mighty Dean Winchester who had humiliated his brother four years back and left his nose busted and jaw wired for a month. And how Ade had bitch fest about that?

As he returned to caress the soft curls at Sam's long neck he smiled appreciatively. This pretty little thing he had in his hands was the one chink in Dean's armour. A true Achilles heel.

"Thank you for helping me take your arrogant shit of a brother down," Hank whispered out in a vicious snarl.

His fingers were batted away from the nape of Sam's neck as he grumbled in his sleep his annoyance at having his personal space invaded, before turning gruffly onto his other side, away from his intrusive touch back into sleep.

With the contact broken he sighed, casting another eye around the cellar his glance stopped by the top of stairwell a knowing grin lighting up his face as he saw the old fashioned electrical fuse box. Oh yeah, things were really starting to look better and better.

Buoyantly confident he bent down and tapped Sam's cheek. "Wakey, wakey sunshine. Your big annoying idiot of a brother needs you."

**o0o0o0o00o0o**

Bobby jerked sharply awake and his head hit the top of the trunk with a loud crack. For a moment he really did see stars in the darkness and it was only after managing to drag in enough oxygen through his flaring nostrils was he able to work through the pain.

Eyes adjusting to the dark he could hazard a guess to where he was, his bound feet kicking up against the clunk of metal. That slimly little bastard had locked him in a trunk of a car. One of his cars. The little shit really did deserve a good pounding.

As the memory of his meeting up with the youngest of the Murdoch brood filtered back his anger mutated into panic. That nut job may have already have gotten to the boys whilst he was laid up in the back of some trashed out car.

Working his bound hands down to the top of his left leg he dragged up his pant leg inch by inch till the top of his boot was exposed and he was able to grab at the handle of his favourite carving knife. Tipping the blade up he started to saw through the tape at his wrist swearing all the while that if it was the last thing he did he was going to make sure that Hank Murdoch would not be leaving his land breathing.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Joshua mouth thinned into a hard line at hearing Dean's warning. If it proved anything it was that the youngest Murdoch was as dangerous as he always thought and was crazy smart with it. A very dangerous combination it appeared to be proving.

"Damn it to hell Bobby your supposed to be better than all of us put together here man,' he admonished the older hunter in a hiss all the while saying a small prayer under his breath for his old friend.

As he pocketed his phone into his jean pocket he ignored his first instinct to get off the roof and back down to ground level to start a search. Whoever had taken Bobby out might still be out there and staying up here might still gave them a fighting advantage.

Shaking his head a spray of rainwater went in all direction before he dragged a large hand down over his face to clear his vision. Once again focused he readjusted his rifle butt into the pit of his shoulder and dared to wait. Wait, calm in the knowledge that if anything more sinister than a cockroach poked its head up he'd be blasting it's freaky head from its shoulder.

"Come on you dark fugly bastards. I have a little something waiting for everyone of you." He whispered in a dare, a finger curled around the trigger in anticipation.

He was rewarded by the sound of thump against metal that echoed in the night air and his rifle swung to the west of the yard, ears straining to discern just where the sound had come from. A shadow moved, fast too fast, to quickly disappear back inside the graveyard of cars and he hissed out a breath of annoyance.

Lining up his sight he ignored the rain running down his brow onto his lashes, blinking them away, and waited. Whatever was out there was in for one big nasty surprise.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam couldn't ignore the insistent pleading, the worrying little voice that kept calling to him. Whispering a concern, a warning. Something about Dean. About having to get to him. To save him.

As the message final reached past the drug fuelled fugue that wrapped around his brain his need to protect his brother kicked and in his whole body juddered as he snagged in a long desperate breath before his eyes fluttered open. In the semi darkness he struggled to see and gasped out, "Dean?"

"No, I'm Hank, Remember?"

Sam looked at the small blond man with a confused frown before pulling himself up onto his elbows trying to get his foggy mind into some semblance of order and confessed, "I'm thirsty…"

Patting his knee Murdoch smiled knowingly "Oh yeah I bet you are big guy. But you have to do this first. Go up to your brother. You have to help him. He's not well."

Sam managed to wet his tongue enough to ask, "Wha…? What's wrong with him."

"Food poisoning, Flu maybe? Hell it could be his appendix readying to rupture. Once that happens he'll have peritonitis, septicaemia…""

Hank smiled as he watched Sam's expressive eyes widen even further in alarm. This was just too much fun and he chuckled softly to himself, "Up you get Sam."

Reaching a hand down he pulled a bewildered and confused Sam onto his feet grunting at the surprising weight behind the boy. But as the blanket fell away to show him only clad in boxers he realised that as slim as he looked his lithe body was well defined with muscle.

Flicking an appreciative tongue over his lips he guided a coltish Sam towards the stairs, noticing with a grin how his long legs had trouble in coordination. Slipping a hand around his waist he whispered, "Its okay Sam I'll get you to him."

Sam didn't say anything, his ability to walk and talk as the same time completely foreign to him right now. All he knew that he had to get back to his brother and he forced his trembling legs to climb up the first step of the stairs.

Hank drew from the back of his waist his gun and slowly guided the larger man up the stairs, looking up towards the fuse box with a happy feeling inside. This could not get any better.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Freddie reached the back end of the Pontiac and stopped short rocking back on forth on tippy toes in excitement. Gleefully he eyed the duct tape making an X shape on the trunk together with the fresh finger prints on the trunk and hugged himself tight, suddenly aware that this was all so very real.

The brown rusted trunk held something very special inside as Hank had left him his first ever playmate. Grinning madly he rested the rifle against the side of the car and pulled out his handgun before yanking open the trunk ajar never expecting to see a really pissed off Bobby Singer reach up and stab wildly at him with one hell of a big knife.

His screech of surprise vibrated high around the yard as the blade tore through the thin fabric of his jacket, scoring lightly across his chest. Freddie staggered back a step, fear bubbling in his heart as he felt the sting of the cut anchor itself in his consciousness.

Tears stung his eyes as his hand pressed against the wound and felt the sticky warmth of blood seep between them

He threw an accusing look over to Singer who was extricating himself out of the old Pontiac and managed to gasp out his shock, "You….. you bitch, look what you've done."

Staggering back a step backwards from the man who was supposed to be his to play with, not vice versa he wondered where Hank was to put an end to this madness. This really was not fun at all.

Bobby had hooked both legs over the edge of the trunk and stood up tall, despite the vicious piston engine pounding in his skull reminding him of his brief but vicious encounter with Hank. Now eyeing the twenty something man in front of him he felt only hatred. This flunky was one of Hank's goon and no doubt as whacked out as he was.

Menacingly he called out, "You have screwed up big time yer little shit in ever putting one foot in my yard…"

On hearing the threat Freddie panicked anew and fumbled to pull back the hammer of his gun but his fingers could find no purchase slick with his own blood. It was his last mistake as Bobby's large knife was instantly airborne to sink a nanosecond later into Freddie's soft belly.

The look of surprise on Freddie's face soon faded as the pain wormed through his guts like fire. It may have even been a delicious sensation if only he had enough time to process it properly. What it was though was mind numbingly debilitating, and he let out a pitiful mewl as the pain increased.

Bobby watched as the threat in front of him doubled up and allowed his lips to twitch slightly in satisfaction as the man struggled to free himself from his knife. In a minute or two there would be one less whackjob to worry about.

Freddie gasped as the knife came free only to feel his life run out of him, his heart pumping too fast so that the initial blush on his shirt turned into a dark flood to spill over his stomach and down his pant legs.

"Hank baby," he called out desperately as he stumbled away from Singer, his fingers finally catching on the trigger of his gun. Despite the pain in his gut he was determined to at least shoot dead Singer and with a wavering hand he pointed the muzzle at the body of the man.

Bobby sucked in a breath his fingers reaching out for the rifle left by the side of truck and wondered who would be faster

The loud crack that followed made Bobby flinch then his eyes widened in surprise.

Freddie never felt the bullet that burnt through the top of his head to bear down through his brain matter. His lifeless fingers let the gun clatter to the ground as his skull shattered and the bullet continued to score downwards into his chest and burst through his heart.

As the last neuron fired he didn't feel his body dare to do a brief jittery dance as his limbs lost all coordination before he fell dead to the ground.

Bobby stood rock still as he watched him collapse and slowly twisted his neck towards his house eyes daring to look up to the roof. With a tired smile he cockled a small salute up to Joshua before miming his intention to get back to the house and the Winchester brothers.

It was the muffled crack of a bullet being fired inside the house that stole his breath away next and made his heart stop. Questioningly he snaked another glance up at Joshua and saw the same fear reflected. The sound had really had come from within, which meant only one thing - Murdoch was inside.

A second shot only a second of so later, sharper, louder, galvanised both men into action with Bobby racing towards his house with Joshua desperate to get off the roof and back down to Dean, and to Sam.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Hank pulled the handle down on the old fuse box lit and all the lights went out. With his other hand he held up an unsteady Sam by the cellar door in front of him, a perfect shield or bullet-proof vest. Take your pick the kid was as good as both.

As he manoeuvred a clearly flagging Sam he whispered irritably under his breath, "Come on you spawn of a demon stay with the game and help me catch your bitching big brother."

Dean spun round as the whole house went dark and cursed out loud that he hadn't thought to arm himself with a torch. Squinting to make out any shape in the darkness his first instinct was to get back to his brother and he aimed his body in that direction. The creak of rusty hinges brought him up short and he could just make out the tall figure in the doorway.

Too tall and familiar not to know who it was he called out his surprise, "Sam…what the hell."

The staccato sound of gun fire boomed out and he dove instinctively in a roll behind the sofa keeping his gun trained on the doorway in the half-light not daring to fire in case it was his brother he was aiming at. "Come on you bastard show yourself. And let go of my brother."

There was the sound of a brief scuffle being played out before finally Sam voiced out petulantly, "Ow! Will yer stop pulling my hair…"

Murdoch laughed at the boy's crabbiness but still held him firmly by the crown of his head, fingers entwined in his long hair as he used him as his own personal barricade. "Naha Sammy. Stay with me nice and tight here or I promise you Dean will be feeling much much worse than he already does."

Sam's face puckered, remembering why it had been so important for him to get back to his brother in the first place. "Dean man, you still sick?"

When there was no answer Hank flicked his flashlight around the living room and finding no trace of his prey spat out a warning, "Listen up Winchester if you don't show yourself in the next five seconds I'm going to start stripping the flesh from parts of your brother's body that will leave him disfigured for life."

Sam didn't even flinch at his words already deaf to the world as his head already to started to bob close to his chest. It was only Hank's fingers twisting more viciously in his hair that jerked his head up sharp again. There was no protest this time from Sam as his eyes drooped half shut but Hank was determined to keep him as his shield and brought his knife dangerously close to his jugular.

Dean wavered as he saw the knife in Murdoch's hand glint dangerously at his brother's exposed throat and slowly stood up, his gun held loosely between finger and thumb as Hank trained his light on him.

"Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in," sneered Hank before indicating with a nod of his head to his gun. "Throw it to my feet and take a good step back towards the mantel or so help me I will skewer little brother here like a suckling pig right before your eyes."

"You know if you hurt him I will tear your throat out with my own two hands," warned Dean, his voice deceptively calm as he threw the gun over at Murdoch's feet. In the feint light he was able to see that his brother looked unhurt but with the blade in Hank's hand he could only wonder for just how long.

As if reading his thoughts Hank crooned out as he pushed a sagging Sam forwards into the middle of the room in front of his brother. "Ooh I'm so scared Dean. Not doing exactly brilliant are we at keeping him out of harms way so far are we dude? One slip of the knife and this little demon tainted bastard of yours will be no more."

"Potty mouth gnome," mumbled back Sam, squirming once against the unfamiliar hands on him wondering why the hell he couldn't just curl up in a ball and go back to sleep seeing that Dean didn't look half as close to death as the blond haired man had made out. "Gonna make my brother puke for sure with your whiney little voice droning on and on …and freaking on."

Murdoch sucked in a breath of annoyance finding Sam more than a handful to deal with eyes straying from Dean for a second as he adjusted his fingers to latch tight around Sam's neck. Dean tensed at the man's loss of concentration sliding a hand carefully to the back of his waist gripping the handle of his gun waiting for his chance to get a shot off.

It was Sam himself that broke the deadlock as his ability to stay conscious deserted him once again. His long legs suddenly buckled so fast that Hank was forced to let go of his deadweight or fall with him. Like a folding pack of cards Sam pitched headfirst onto the sofa, face burrowing into one of the shot up cushions with barely a murmur whilst his arms flopped down around his sides, long legs concerting to bend at the knees as if he was in prayer.

Dean as soon as his brother fell forwards snatched his gun around and fired at Hank but was half a second too late as the torch went out and they were flung into darkness again.

A warning growl from the top of the stairs hinted at Joshua's presence and a light shone down. "Dean? You get the slime ball?"

"I'm working on it Joshua!" snapped back Dean under his breath in the darkness as he fired a shot blindly to where Murdoch had stood.

There was a brief return flash of a gun being fired and Dean ducked to the left feeling the scoring path of a bullet knick the top of his forearm. Flinging himself over his prone brother he fired again spitting out little pockets of light each time he fired.

His last shot was rewarded with a soft grunt of pain, "Gotcha," snarled out Dean.

There was a loud wail of bullets as Joshua waded into the room standing over the Winchester brothers and sprayed the room with automatic gunfire. When the gunfire died and the smoke cleared Joshua spun his torch around the room but Murdoch was nowhere to be seen.

Joshua gave a grunt of disappointment before resting the light back on to a clearly nervous Dean, still in a protective huddle over his brother on the sofa. "You both okay?"

"Yeah. I got a shot off at Murdoch. He's hurt."

Josh raised an eyebrow at the news before his dark eyes rested down on Sam, "Just how the hell did he get back up here again?"

"That freak Murdoch had to have come in through the basement somehow…gotta hold of Sammy and all." Dean wiped a calloused hand across his dry mouth before hastily turning his brother around to check for any new injuries.

Letting out a slowly stuttering breath of relief when there were no fresh wounds to patch up he patted Sam's shoulder gently, and manoeuvred his brother still sleeping form to rest more comfortably on the sofa shaking his head, "Oh god… I almost lost him again."

The larger man gripped Dean's shoulder for a brief moment before letting go to start a sweep of the rest of the house for any signs of Murdoch. As he made his way towards the room that acted as an office and study for Bobby he gave out a small appreciative whistle and pointed down to the pattern of blood on the floor where one of Dean's bullets had made their mark. "Yep you sure nailed the little bastard – gave him a little something to remember you by."

The wide droplets of spaced apart blood splatter made Dean's face pucker up in disappointment, "From the looks of things I didn't nail him hard enough."

Bobby's voice from behind both made them freeze, "You two detectives just gonna stand there looking at the crime scene or are you actually gonna hunt the lily livered coward down and put a stop to all this nonsense?"

Bobby was rewarded with wide smirks of relief as Dean and Joshua turned to face him. "You okay man?" asked Dean, noting the bruising on his temple.

Sniffing back their concern Bobby gruffly remarked, "Gotta a hard head."

The crackle of glass breaking at the back of the house galvanised them into action and with guns raised they tore off towards where the sound had come from. A broken back window was their answer and with smudge of blood on the window frame they both guessed that Hank Murdoch had left in a hurry. Out numbered and most definitely out gunned.

Dean tugged on Joshua's arm, "Stay here. Make sure he doesn't double back and try to get to Sammy again." Aiming a look at Bobby he could see that he was in agreement, it was after all his yard and he could track anyone down in it day or night. Beside he had his own score to settle here with the evil little runt.

Nodding his understanding Joshua took off in a long lope back to the living room and Dean and Bobby both crawled through the broken window in search of their prey.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

He ran in fear, true fear, for the first time in his life. The wound in his shoulder hurt like crazy but he was not going to let that slow him down and end up another notch on Dean Winchester's gun belt.

Getting Dean Winchester should have been a piece of cake. He had his doped up baby brother and the advantage of facing off to him in the dark yet still things had gone completely pear shaped. The fool kid collapsing on him was just the start of things going wrong, too goddam heavy to stop and then Dean faster than a whippet was firing at him. The bullet went past his face leaving a sting on his cheek and he knew just how near he had come to getting a bullet in his skull.

For a short exchange he had thought to shoot it out with Dean but with the addition of another hunter in the mix he was smart enough to know when to book and run. Besides he knew Joshua from before and knew he would not hesitate in finishing off what Dean had started. Moralistic do-gooder always did look down at him.

Clamping a hand over the wound that bled freely he darted down the long rows of rusting relics heart before he was tripped up over a solid mass that sent him flying head first into the side of metal door.

Stunned he slowly turned his body round and hauled himself to a sitting position, back against the door and his mouth dropped open in shock. Slowly he leant forwards to reach a hand out to touch the gaping wound in the back of Freddie's head, more than a little fascinated by the gruesome sight.

Swallowing deeply he knew this was not the time to take in the sights and determinedly pulled himself back onto his feet. As he gave one last glance to his dead companion he sighed sadly. His gorgeous little Freddie really had proven to be such a disappointment. After all he had practically gift-wrapped Bobby Singer for him, hadn't he?

Thinking on the wiry hunter he sighed again. This was no place to be hanging about if he wanted to see tomorrow. Taking off in a run again he did not allow the pain to slow him down. It never had before, and now it acted as a motivator to keep him on the move.

As he turned the corner of a line of junked out vehicles he laughed softly at realising just how near he was to getting out of the yard and back to his car to drive away. He smirked as he heard too far away the echo of chasing feet and knew they would never catch him in time.

Grinning confidently once more he didn't see the dark blur at his back, only felt the hot breath at his neck as teeth sank into him and dragged him to the ground like a rag doll.

His screams rent the air as he tried to beat off the incensed dog but only managed to add to his list of injuries as Rummy snapped through the skin and muscle in one arm and worried at the other as he lifted it up to protect his vulnerable face and neck. He had managed to hold on to his gun and turned it round in the melee of snarls and gnashing teeth and got off a shot.

There was a soft whimper and the dog fell down. Not wanting to trust to luck Hank crawled away, hauling himself back onto wobbly legs with the aid of a rusting Ford.

He heard the dog's guttural growl in warning again and adrenaline worked its magic to allow him to climb up the frame of the ford and then up another three levels till he stood on top of the pile to look fifteen feet down at the snarling dog and readied to shoot it again.

"Stupid mutt," he muttered and let off a shot and the recoil made his foot slip slightly. He growled his own frustration as his shot had gone wild and the dog was still barking crazily up at him. He went to fire off another shot when he was left wondering why the world was tipping at such a strange axis and why the snarls of the dog below was being drowned out by the strange shriek of aged metals shifting under his feet.

Dean and Bobby had heard Murdoch's screams and reached him just in time to see him topple backwards off top of a tonne weight of cars to land flat on his back in the yard.

Bobby quickly whistled over to Rummy who bounded back to them, tongue flapping out the side of his mouth as continued to sweat out the drugs in his system.

As Bobby hauled the dog to his side they watched as the threat of Hank Murdoch came to a messy end as the tilting body of the top rusting hulk nose-dived down off the pile to fall with a sickening crunch on to him. There was one brief scream as Murdoch saw his coming death but it was soon muffled as the rest of pile collapsed down on top of him.

Bobby stood there opened mouth but Dean couldn't keep a smirk off his face. "Bastard should never had messed with your dog Bobby…"

Bobby threw him a strange look and then to Rummy noticing the crease in his leg with a soft grunt before his eyes drifted to the still swinging pile of cars that had the remains of Murdoch pinned beneath, "Yeah, suppose yer right. Still leaves one hell of a mess to clear up though boy."

Dean nodded. 'Yeah', he thought grimly, 'One hell of a mess to clear up.' With Sam and the whole world of crazy that had visited them this past week.

**_TBC – Epilogue to follow_**

_Sorry I know I had promised to finish it here but I just need to tie up some loose ends and add some brotherly love and snark in a short epilogue that I'll post after my hols!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Usual disclaimer applies including all my bumbling mistakes! Sorry I haven't had time to say my thanks for the last round of wonderful reviews but I do hope to play catch up soon! As this is the final chapter (yes!) it is long as brotherly moments that just kept spilling out – I just hope the conclusion isn't too disappointing._

**Becoming too visible**

**Chapter 12: Silence is golden**

The body of Hank Murdoch could wait a few more hours for it's ritual salt and burning decided Bobby as he walked back to the house. As it stood it was too dangerous moving the rusting hulks perched one on top of one another in the dark so morning would be as good a time to get the ugly runt's mortal remains sorted out once and for all.

After shooing Dean back to the house and to his brother he had cleaned up Rummy's leg satisfied that it was only a flesh wound and left him bandaged and tied to the back of the house. The last thing he needed was for the drug crazed dog to wander off and chew on anyone else if the mood took his fancy. The local police turning up with a dead body on the grounds was the last thing he needed right about now.

As he walked back into his home he gave a soft whistle as he finally took in the damage done to the ground floor, his eyes tracking the various sized bullet holes pock marking the walls to the ones that had torn up his furniture.

"Gonna need a new sofa," he thought to himself, just glad that through the hail of bullets that Dean had managed to walk away with a just a scratch to his forearm and that for once Sam was completely untouched. Perhaps now the Winchester luck was back on track again he dared to think. It was a premature thought as the sound of cursing from the kitchen caught his attention and he wandered quickly over to see Joshua tearing around in search of something.

"Just how can the man hide a stupid goddam freezer?" Joshua exclaimed in frustration opening another cupboard to come up empty handed again.

"You sniffing around for a cold beer dude?" queried Bobby with a knowing smirk on his face. He had moved the freezer to the alcove at the back of the kitchen a few months back when it sprung a leak and despite fixing it had never moved it back.

Joshua pinked slightly at the jibe, "No man. I need ice. The kid's burning up big time."

Brushing past him at the news Bobby grabbed up a bucket from under the sink and went to the freezer and started to fill it with ice. "Fool boy never did learn to do things my halves. He's gonna be the death of us all through worry if he keeps this up."

Joshua trailed after him as they went back up stairs biting his tongue. He had been around Bobby long enough to know when to keep his trap shut as the man looked pissed enough to spit bullets if one more thing went wrong.

Fear was the motivator that got Bobby up the stairs in record time and it was justified as he saw a desperate Dean wiping a cold flannel over his brother's flushed face whispering encouragements that fell on deaf ears. His frown deepened when he saw Sammy seem to shiver under the touch although his body glistened with sweat.

Whatever he had been exposed to was still having an unsettling affect on the youngest Winchester as his body tried desperately to expel the toxins out.

"When did this start up?" he asked of Joshua as he went over to the bed putting the bucket on the floor.

"Not long. When I moved him back up here he seemed fine at first, just really sleepy. A little hot but nothing crazy like this."

Dean turned his head suddenly aware of Bobby's presence, "This isn't exactly normal is it?"

Singer tested Sam's forehead with the palm of his hand and couldn't stopa wince from escaping at the heat radiating off him, "He's sweating out the drugs. We can try putting some ice in a sheet and wrap that round him to see if that cools him down any."

Sam groaned under Bobby's touch eyes fluttering open for the merest second before they closed again as he succumbed back to the fever.

It was sign to Dean that waiting was no longer the safest option and he shook his head emphatically, "No, he needs a hospital. Whatever that bastard Murdoch did to him its getting worse."

Bobby clicked his tongue and ran a worried hand through his hair, "Your right, I'll call in a favour over at County. You get him ready to go."

Letting out a shaky breath Dean couldn't hide his relief. "Thanks man."

Galvanised into action Joshua deftly pushed Dean aside intent on getting to the youngest Winchester but was met with resistance as Dean squared off to him, "Leave him be. I can manage this."

Joshua eyed the bandage around Dean's forearm and gave a small snort of disbelief, "Look you're in no shape to carry him and I'll be damned if I let you drop him head first down the stairs."

Standing tall Dean pushed back, ignoring the throb of the wound in his arm, "He's my responsibility. I can carry him just fine."

Choosing not to argue further the older hunter simply bent down and hefted Sam up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and walked purposely past a fuming Dean and headed for the stairs.

By the time he reached the bottom step Dean was at his side muttering darkly, "Like hell would I have dropped him."

Joshua just grinned and carried on walking with his weighty burden wondering not for the first time tonight as just how much muscle the kid had packed on since last he saw him. He cast a look over his shoulder and asked, "We taking the Impala or Bobby's truck?"

"What do you think?" snapped back Dean as he snaked the car keys out of his pocket.

Bobby growled behind him. "We'll take both. I gotta hold of my friend Conrad and he'll meet us there."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dr Conrad Hammond didn't do nights. Not any more. His long career in medicine had earned him the right to have that privilege but on hearing Bobby's worried voice down the line he would gladly give up a few hours of sleep to help out his old buddy. He may have given up hunting when he became a doctor but it didn't mean he wouldn't help his own when they needed it. And by the sounds of things Bobby's young charge needed it big time.

He made it to the hospital just in time to see a familiar black car screech to a halt by the ER entrance with Bobby's tow truck behind it. In a dash he raced over to the two vehicles, shouting at an intern taking a quick cigarette break to raise the alarm.

It was the panicked look on the driver's face as he jumped out of the car and pulled open the rear door that made his mouth go dry. He had seen that look many times before and it always sent a missed heartbeat or two to flutter in his chest. By the time he reached the car he could understand the panic as the boy lying prone on the back seat struggled just to draw in a breath.

"Its okay Sammy. We're gonna get you some help. Just hang in there," begged Dean fingers fisting into his brother's wet locks in desperation.

He had driven like a madman to get to the hospital all the time having to look through the rear view mirror as Joshua struggled with his ailing brother/

Bobby also hovered by the Impala his face grey with worry as he spied his friend's approach, "Conrad it's Johnny's boy, Sam."

Conrad already aware of who the car once belonged flew into full doctor mode and leant into the car to try and assess Sam further. He was thankful that by the time he had looked up he could see a familiar colleague racing over to him, "Jerry I have a patient that is crashing here. Pulse is tachycardic and breath sounds laboured."

"What the hell happened to him?" asked the ER doctor as Sam was hauled onto a gurney by many hands, all belonging to none of his team and he quickly stepped to the head of the gurney to try and assess his newest patient for himself.

Joshua's eyes were hollow as he gave a small despairing shrug, "He just kept getting hotter until finally a mile or so back he had some sort of seizure. I haven't been able to wake him since."

Dr Matthew's eyes widened in surprise as seeing the dressings to Sam's side and arm and wondered if that was the cause of his fever when Dr Hammond came back into his eye line. "Jerry, I believe he's ingested some sort of hallucinogenic compound."

The younger doctor's lip curled in distaste, "What is it with kids these days and drugs."

Dean angrily stepped in, his fists knuckling white, "Listen you idiot some bastard did this to him and if you want to see the light of day ever again I suggest you get your frigging head out of your butt and help my brother. Now."

Matthews drew away alarmed by the implied violence and threw a quick glance over to Dr Hammond, "Do I need security here?"

Conrad shook his head quickly and stepped into calm the situation before it got out of hand. Remembering how handy John Winchester had been with his fist when he felt his family threatened he could see the same steely determination in his eldest boy now. "Dean step back and let Dr Matthews do his job."

Surprised by the use of his name Dean threw Hammond a sharp look trying desperately to put a time and place to the man's familiar face but was left floundering.

Dr Matthews took that moment of distraction to take charge and snapped out," Come on team lets get this man properly triaged before he codes on us."

Like a well-oiled machine the ER trauma team took over and Sam was hurried away with a fretting Dean racing after them calling out his brother's name in support with Joshua trailing only a half a heartbeat behind him.

Conrad snaked out a hand to Bobby to stop him from following, "Look old friend you have any idea the type of drugs the boy was exposed to? Looks like he's had a severe adverse reaction to whatever it was."

Bobby shook his head but fished out a small canister out of his pocket. "This might help. I think it was put into the water. He drank it I guess and whatever it was it sent him near over the edge of my roof. Damn fool kid thought he could fly."

Taking the bottle he nodded his appreciation, "I'll get this to the lab and hopefully we can find out what we're dealing with here," Conrad paused before daring to ask, "You know if the lad has used drugs in the past?"

Shaking his head Bobby locked eyes with Conrad, "Hell no, that boy is squeaky clean. Gets drunk on beer number two if you get my drift."

"Didn't take after his old man in that department then," smiled back Conrad sadly, remembering the times Bobby and John had drank each other under the table and he had to drag their sorry butts home.

"Oh believe me his brother manages to keep the Winchester name going in a wide variety of bars across the USA."

Dr Hammond let out a soft whistle as they walked into the brightly lit ER, "You realise the last time I saw those boys was when Dean must have been all of eleven years old threatening to break my nose if I went anywhere near his baby brother with a booster tetanus shot. John had to literally frog march him out of the examination room before I could get that needle anywhere near little Sammy."

Bobby gave a wry smile, "Believe me nothing has changed there. Dean is still the same. He will do anything to protect his brother. Anything."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The waiting was driving Dean slowly insane. It had been little over an hour but it felt like one long day had crept by as he prowled the waiting area, desperate to hear any news on his brother. Joshua and Bobby watched him pace restlessly keeping their silence as nothing they said would help ease the worry from his shoulders.

When Conrad reappeared, this time with a white coat on exuding an air of authority Dean immediately stopped in his tracks all his attention now focused on him. "Its about time, how's my brother?"

Studying the young man in front of him he could see reminders of the defiant eleven year old still on his face and Conrad broke into a soft smile glad to be giving him some good news, "Well Sam is holding his own. He's had no further seizures and his temperature has stopped going skywards."

Dean wavered unsteadily at the news and for a moment Conrad thought he might topple over and quickly indicated to a spare chair by Bobby, "Sit down Dean, you look ready to kiss the floor."

Bobby tugged at Dean's sleeve and he slumped down into the adjacent chair, cradling his head in his hands as relief flooded over him before he dared to ask, "So he's going to be okay?"

Conrad bent down and patted his shoulder, "Look your brother was given something that completely threw his body clock out of sync. He went from doing nothing more substantial than caffeine to doing something akin to hard core LSD in seconds and his body didn't like it, not one little bit. Just let him sleep this off and I'm sure in a day or two he will be fine. "

Dean shifted his head up to look the doctor in the eye. "He shouldn't have to sleep off nothing."

Conrad gave a thin smile in return remembering the eleven year old all too well as Dean pouted belligerently before him, "I know Dean. Just lets get him through this crisis and we can talk about his future management later."

Dean merely nodded as Bobby stood up and shook his friend's hand in relief. "Thanks Conrad."

"Nothing to it old man. Just glad you got John's little boy to me when you did…"

The hidden meaning wasn't lost on Bobby and his chin ducked down to his chest as the guilt tore at him again, "So despite everything the big galoot is going to be okay?"

Hammond didn't look at Dean as he admitted, "Yes though as is standard practice they had to intubate him to take the strain off his lungs and other organs. They've also started him on an IV to pump some fluids back into him being severely dehydrated when he arrived. It will also help flush out the last of the toxins he ingested"

Dean gasped at the implications, "Woah back up there sparky. Intubate him? You put a freaking tube down his throat and tell me that he's doing okay?"

Picking up on the desperate quality now in Dean's voice Hammond quickly added, "It was necessary. Your brother had a seizure en-route to the ER and if he had another his airways could have been seriously compromised. As his temperature returns to normal and he has no further events he will be taken off the ventilator."

Dean glowered back at him still not liking the implications of a machine breathing for his brother. "I want to see him."

Dr Hammond knew better to argue with him on this request and nodded over to a waiting nurse, "Betty can you take Mr Connelly to see his brother."

"Sure Dr Hammond. Mr Connelly if you follow me…"

Bobby watched as Dean literally raced after the nurse with Joshua in tow like his permanent shadow he gave out a tired sigh and turned back to his old friend. "You get the results back then?"

"The lab is still working on a definitive analysis it but what I can tell you it was a manufactured drug. Close to Lysergic acid diethylamide and MDMA but it was obviously tailored to be more potent. The end result was hallucinations as you said and the destabilising effects it had on Sam's body."

"The kid's luck just couldn't get any worse," muttered Bobby tiredly.

"Sounds like one hell of a story you have to tell me, as from the looks of things Johnny's baby boy has been in the wars lately. The busted arm and the wounds to his side look pretty nasty. Now this too?"

"A hunt went bad and he had a nasty run in with a spirit a week ago. But I swear I had him under wraps at my place and he was healing just nicely."

"Hard to imagine you in full Nurse Bobby mode," laughed Conrad softly.

Bobby eyed his old friend and sniffed, "The ungrateful brat started to call me Gestapo Bob. Go figure!"

"Well actually…." Conrad stopped his teasing at seeing the hurt in his old friend's eyes. "Bob?"

"I screwed up bad. Sam was doing real good but because of me he ends up here." Scrubbing a calloused hand over his face he added bleakly, "I promised Dean that I'd look after him but I left him Conrad. Left him alone to go get some stupid freaking spare parts. That boy almost died because of me …"

Conrad for his part snorted his disbelief, "You didn't put the damn drugs in the water. By the sounds of things you all could have ended up just like Sam. Stop beating yourself up like this Bobby. The boy is going to be okay." He threw him a wide grin, " Trust me, I am a doctor after all."

For a short moment Bobby stared at Conrad and then a sharp laugh escaped. "You barely scraped through med school as I remember."

"That's because half the time I was too busy hauling your stupid ass out of the frying pan. You and that idiot John Winchester could attract trouble by just sneezing dodgy if I remember correctly. I think I learnt most of my suturing skills on your two sorry behinds than any bonafide patient that came into the ER."

Rubbing his whiskered chin Bobby snorted at the memory. "Still got a mighty strange pattern on my left butt that you left me with yer bodged stitching."

Admiring his fingers Conrad chuckled, "You were graced with the work of a true artisan dude. These fingers have been blessed with genius."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean felt his back protest as he shifted in the plastic bucket seat and slowly he tried to ease the tension from his stiffening frame with a long stretch.

For the first time since his admission he was alone with Sam and in the silence that followed he felt scared and more than a little useless as he watched the ventilator do the work of breathing for his brother.

Snaking trembling fingers into his Sam's lax hand he squeezed gently, "Come on little brother, you gonna carry on with the Sleeping Beauty routine? You're missing out on some pretty hot nurses just dying to give you a sponge bath here."

When there was no response he let go of his brother's hand and drew his fingers across the tangled mess of hair that covered his brother's forehead. It was grimy from dried sweat and he brushed it off his face letting out an anxious sigh when there was no response.

Cupping his chin with his hands he knelt by his bedside studying his face for any hint of pain but saw none and was thankful of that small mercy. After studying him in utter silence for ten minutes the battle scars of a week earlier couldn't be ignored and he traced gingerly the line of healing wounds down his brother's lightly bandaged arm.

As he felt the ripple underneath each point of impact his emotional armour dissolved till he was no longer able to stop the tears from falling as he confessed, "I messed up Sammy. Messed up big time. Anderson and Murdoch were all my mistakes and I let you get hurt because of them. Some big brother I turned out to be when I'm supposed to keep you safe…."

There was a dry cough behind him and he straightened up instantaneously his head twisting around to find the owner. Joshua stood there mutely holding out a coffee for him to take. Dean scrubbed the tears from his face and nodded his thanks at the older hunter who sank into a chair on the opposite side of the bed.

"You know shit happens," remarked Joshua finally breaking the awkward silence in the room. "Your brother won't be placing any blame on you Dean so stop dumping it on yourself like this."

Dean angrily shook his head, "Really Oh-Fucking-Wise-One is that your explanation for my brother ending up in this bed? _Shit happens?" _He stabbed an angry finger over at him and added "No, what happened is that I forget Winchester rule number one."

"What's that then?" asked Joshua softly knowing that Dean really did need to off load here.

"To keep _him_ safe. I threw him into the lions den and didn't care if he got mauled. Sammy nearly got killed. Twice Joshua. And each time I should have stopped it from happening. If dad was still here he would be tearing strips off me right now…."

Joshua couldn't keep the touch of anger from his voice, "Your dad always did put too much weight on your shoulders."

Dean's voice broke slightly as he confessed, "It's my job. Dad always knew that…"

"Your dad at times knew diddlysquat when it came to what was right for you, for your brother."

Dean slammed down the coffee his anger burning hot inside as he spat back, "You don't have the right to say anything about my dad."

Sucking back his own anger Joshua tried to keep his voice calm as he responded, "I ain't gonna get into one about John with you. I loved the man like a brother but he was sure was hard to like at times so lets just put our focus here on Sam. You know he is gonna be confused as hell when he wakes up. You've got to be ready for that."

All the anger drained from him as Dean turned to watch his brother again and he finally admitted his deepest fear, "Don't you see he's going to hate me Josh when he finds out about all those goddam lies I fed him."

Appalled at the level of pain radiating from the man Joshua took a steadying breath before responding, "Your wrong. The Sam Winchester I know could never hate his big brother. Might want to slap some sense into you at times but then who doesn't after being with you for a short while?"

"Thanks!" answered Dean dryly his mood lightening slightly under the gentle ribbing. Picking up his coffee again he took a deep sip enjoying the warmth on his tongue. "It still doesn't help with the mess I made of things here."

"How does that old saying go 'What you don't know can't hurt yer'. Sammy doesn't need to know the whole picture in all its gory detail. Tell him just what will make sense to him and let the rest go as a lesson learnt. Just keep him away from whacked out hunters from now on."

Dean threw him a dark look, "Like you perhaps? Tell me, just why did Sam take a swing at you back in the house? He clocked you good and proper."

Joshua grinned wide, his fingers absently rubbing at the bruise forming on his chin. "Look your brother had his reasons. When he was around fifteen I broke a confidence and Sam and your dad got into one because of it. I deserved that punch."

"You going to let me into this little secret then?" queried Dean his mind racing back to a moody fifteen year old Sam and not making any connection with Joshua.

Standing now by the foot of Sam's bed Joshua wasn't willing to offer any more insight and shook his head, "Nope. I've learnt to keep my mouth shut. If you want to know anything more you'll have to ask Sam."

"Well that's a little difficult at the moment," snapped back Dean hating to be out of the loop when it came to anything concerning his brother. "The way it's going I'll be lucky if ever speaks to me again when he finds out about the whole world of crap I led him into."

Joshua squatted down besides Dean and put a firm hand on his knee, "You really can't blame yourself for being duped by that slime ball Anderson. Or even for what those bastard Murdochs did. Let go of the guilt before it eats you up and causes even more damage. To you and to your brother."

The conversation abruptly came to an end as Sam stirred in his bed. Dean hovered over him anxiously silently giving up a prayer of thanks as green-blue eyes blinked lazily open. "Hey Sam."

Focusing on the blurry image slowly Dean's face came into view and Sam tried to smile a greeting in return but something snagged on his lips. Instead of a smile a frown formed and his hand went up instinctively to tug at the apparatus covering his mouth.

Dean leant forward and gently prised Sam's long fingers away from the ventilator tube. "Its okay kiddo. Listen Joshua has gone to get a doctor and they'll take this out. Just stay calm. Okay?"

Sam gripped his brother's hand confused as to why he was stuck in a hospital bed but trusted his brother enough to nod his head and let the panic that had torn away at his chest recede. His brother was here. That's all he had ever needed to feel safe.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

When he had woken earlier he thought he might have just dreamed the experience but it wasn't until Dean told him exactly what had happened that it started to sink in. "Me high as a kite?"

"Yeah dude, and believe me it wasn't a pretty sight."

Sam suddenly chuckled at a memory that pinged into his head and voice came out a dry whisper post intubation, "I thought Rummy had been turned into a hell hound and wanted to eat me."

"Yeah well let's not also forget that you also thought you were superman. Almost gave poor Bobby a heart attack," snorted back Dean tiredly. He had managed to give up enough of the truth of what had happened without dragging the whole sordid mess of Anderson's betrayal into the mix and his brother seemed happy to accept it, half lies and all.

Just thankful to have his brother back at his side Sam tried to piece back together all that he had been told but it still felt like he was swimming in a sea of treacle. Every time he tried to join the dots together the picture just ended up looking too distorted to be real.

Propping himself up on his elbows he looked directly at Dean his eyes still reflecting his confusion, "I can't really believe this all happened because of some stupid vendetta over a bar fight four years back."

Dean couldn't match his brother's earnest stare and looked away out of the window and when he spoke next his voice was deliberately flat as he continued to spin out the half truths, "Well the Murdochs were always a little unhinged. Trust them to go so over the freaking top and pull a stunt like this. How was I too know that beating the crap out of Adrian back in Texas would come back to bite us on the ass like this."

Sam gave a bitter laugh, "Over the top is a bit of an understatement here Dean. They freaking doped up the water supply. Bobby must be as mad as hell after the week I put him through and now having to deal with all this he's gonna hate the name of Winchester before we're through with him."

Turning back to look at his brother Dean's expression softened, inwardly marvelling at how even now Sam could be worrying about others when he was lying in a hospital bed. "Bobby always been more growl than bite when it comes to you. You've been able to wrap him around your little fingers since the moment you could say his name."

Sam blushed at the notion and shook his head, "Me wrap him around my finger – you've got to be kidding me. You didn't have to live with him the last week. He watched me like a hawk after nurse Hatchett's vitriolic mouthing off about cleanliness. Turned him into some sort of germ phobic prison guard."

"So trying to steal his truck was your way of escaping from Fort Singer was it?"

Sam glanced down a blush on his cheeks at the reminder. "I think I just went a little stir crazy is all. You were gone for so long and I thought…."

Dean stilled waiting for his brother to finish his sentence dreading to hear what came next but he was only met with an awkward silence as Sam continued to stare down into his lap.

As if aware of his scrutiny Sam glanced up to lock eyes with his brother, "Listen, about Ben, I'm really sorry. The dude didn't deserve to go out like that. I know he was your friend and losing him like this has to hurt."

Dean shook his head his voice gritty with emotion, "Anderson was a sorry assed drunk who almost got my dorky little brother killed because I trusted him. So don't you dare be sorry about anything Sam as you did nothing wrong."

Sam laughed weakly, "Can I get that in writing?"

"Dude I can get it tattooed on your ass if it makes you feel any better."

The sound of his brother's high pitched giggle made Dean laugh easily in return. They both stopped a second later and eyed each other both a little self conscious of the fact that they hadn't sparked off against each like that in the longest of times. For the briefest of moments it had felt so natural so normal that Dean was left to wonder just when he had given up on sharing with his brother like that.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

At some point Sam had drifted back off to sleep because when next he woke he was alone in his room. On noticing the sun dipping in the sky he realised it was now late afternoon and then the dread spiked through him that his brother had taken off again.

Fingering his throat that still felt a little raw he swallowed sourly his face setting hard in determination as no way was he going to be left behind or sidelined because he had gotten hurt again. He was sick of it, sick of being thought weak and needing a nursemaid. All he wanted now was to find his clothes, find his brother and finally get back on the road with him.

With fresh determination he swung his legs over the side of the bed toes curling at the cold floor underneath and tentatively he stood up pleased at finding that his legs supported his weight and a huge grin creased his face. "Yes," he whispered out loud punching the air in victory.

It was a victory cut short as an angry voice barked out, "Just where the hell do you think your going?"

Swivelling round a little too fast Sam found himself toppling back onto the bed with a soft exhale of surprise. "Dean?"

Dean put down the two coffees cups in his hands on the bedside table and glared at his brother. "You planning to go where exactly?"

"May be the bathroom?" answered Sam a little sheepishly cringing at how awful his lie sounded to his own ears.

"Let me make this clear, you're not going anywhere till I know that you are one hundred percent better. You hear me?"

Blanching slightly at the forceful tone Sam still had enough fight left in him to answer back, "I'm fine dude, just stop being such a freaking mother hen about everything and help me get out of here."

Fist clenched tightly Dean shook his head remembering all too clearly the reason why his brother was back in hospital, "Sam, what part of almost dying don't you understand here?"

Wincing at the reminder Sam's voice was low, "But I didn't."

Dean ducked his head down and took in a steadying breath. The Murdochs and Andersons of this world were now permanently removed from his brother to worry about any further harm but it didn't lift the burden of guilt of his shoulders.

Sam for his part studied his brother disturbed by his sudden silence. He had had a whole week on his own with Bobby to fret about things and guessed Dean must have been feeling the same whilst chasing after Anderson.

Throat too dry again Sam sipped at his water again eyes desperate to breach his brother's prickly shell as he finally he admitted. "I don't want you taking off again leaving my stupid butt behind."

The colour drained from Dean's face and he shook his head, "I know I shouldn't have taken off last time out but I promise that won't ever happen again. Besides it was kind of boring not having you ride shotgun bitching away like usual. Breaks up the tedium factor no end…"

Sam slowly grinned back at him. "You missed me? Imagine that, my bitching and all…"

"Afternoon boys," Hammond interrupted the brothers with a warm smile on his face.

Dean response to his brother's statement was cut short as he instantly reverted to big brother mode and demanded a progress report, "How's my idiot brother really doing?"

Sam bit his bottom lip at the jibe and threw his brother an unreadable look and Conrad chuckled at Dean "Well by the looks of thing readying to deck you."

"I'm the one that should be smacking him. Found the brat trying to make his escape." snapped back Dean in explanation.

Conrad lifted an eyebrow in surprise and turned back to Sam. "Give it another day young man and if your stats continue to improve I'll gladly sign your discharge papers myself."

Sam went to protest but was interrupted with a small smack to the back of his head. "Ow," he exclaimed in surprise up at his brother. "Why'd you do that?"

Ignoring the miserable look thrown his way Dean huffed out, "To stop you wingeing even more. You forget the reason why you're in that bed?"

Sam's voice was husky as he snapped back, "Not as if you're going to let me forget anytime soon. God your worse than Bobby…"

"Well that's what big brothers are for. To stop their pain-in-the-ass little brothers from doing anything stupid."

Dr Hammond quickly stepped in fearing that it would turn ugly between the two brothers as Sam's scowl deepened. "Well the good news is that Sam is ready for a new cast. We can put that on today."

Dean grinned broadly back and punched his brother gently in the shoulder. "Way to go tiger and this time round I'll make sure you keep the damn thing on."

"Wasn't exactly my fault that the other one came off," snorted back Sam before letting a small smile creep back onto his face at the prospect of getting the use back of his hand. The uncomfortable throb of his broken arm had been a continuous drag all week long, not that he would have admitted to Bobby and sure as hell not to his brother fussing by his bedside now.

Choosing to ignore that last comment and the uncomfortable memories that came with it Dean turned back to Hammond. "So no lasting damage from the drugs either? My brother is as moronically gifted as before?"

Conrad swallowed back a chuckle trying to keep a professional air about him as Sam tossed a pillow at his brother's head, "God you are such a frigging jerk."

Bending down to pick up the pillow by his feet Dean grinned back. "I was wondering how long it would take Princess Samantha to make her reappearance." With an exaggerated flourish he plumped up the pillow, "Look - all nice an fluffy again, just how you like it."

Sam allowed his brother to place the pillow behind him and then slumped back onto the bed in defeat suddenly too tired to argue any further, "Yeah. Whatever."

The stark realisation had hit home that no way was he going to get out of the hospital today, not with Dean on guard duty and he hadn't the energy to fight it any more.

Sensing his capitulation Dean lost his smile and a small frown puckered his forehead. "I know man its hard but just give it one more night and I'll be happy to spring you out of here myself." He paused before he admitted. "You scared the crap out of me last night Sam. I don't think I could deal with a repeat performance any time soon…"

Sam turned his head round to look at his brother and saw the concern there and couldn't punish him any further. Taking a long sigh he nodded his head, "Okay I'll stay but you've got to get me some real food. Bobby has been stuffing all this organic stuff down my throat all week and have you seen the crap they serve here. It really sucks."

A broad smile split Dean's face at his brother's easily filled request, "It's a deal. I supply you with a couple of big fat juicy hamburgers and you stop doing your impression of Steve McQueen."

"One night Dean then we're out of here."

Dr Hammond chose to ignore the mention of food being smuggled in against hospital policy and cleared his throat, "Well now that Sam's sleeping arrangements for tonight have been sorted out perhaps we can get on with getting that new cast put on."

Sam turned a soft happy grin back up to his brother glad that he was with him this time round, remembering just how badly he had gotten it wrong with the first. Sighing he confessed, "At this rate I'll be wearing one till Christmas."

Dean smirked knowingly in return, "Perhaps we can get it in nice shade of pink this time out. You know to match the type of ladies that you attracted last time out of the gate."

"That's not fair," muttered Sam with a blush on his cheeks recalling his disastrous meeting up with a girl called Candy and her nemesis Shandy who had ended up battling it out to see who would get to first base and beyond with him. "I got a little tipsy is all and those girls got way too scary so I left."

"Tipsy? You were as drunk as a skunk as I recall and those girls would have eaten you alive if you hadn't ducked and run when you did."

The blush on Sam's cheeks darkened further as he tried to laugh off the memory. "Those girls are one set of images I would gladly erase."

Dean sighed his own regrets under his breath, "I have a whole bag full of my own that I'd like to exorcise too kiddo."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Rummy panted by Sam's legs as they both enjoyed the late afternoon sunshine walking in happy silence down a long line of rusting vehicles. Since finally getting out of County a day back he had been confined once again to close quarters at Bobby's. For a small house it felt cramped at times with four men duking it out for space. That coupled with three sets of beady eyes on him at any given time he had been left feeling more than a little claustrophobic.

It had felt good liberating himself from the confines of the house as he climbed out of the bedroom window. Finding his feet once again on terra firma he hunted out his usual companion and took off with Rummy with just the simple aim of getting an hour of uninterrupted peace and quiet.

Supping slowly at the nicely chilled beer that he had snuck out from under Bobby Singer's radar he couldn't keep a silly grin off his face. The noise and attention of three men bickering over him was gone, locked inside the house where they were supposedly playing a game of friendly poker.

Sam snorted softly at the misnomer of the term friendly as the tension vibrating through the house as the game escalated to an all out testosterone fuelled competition of wills that could be felt even as he pretended to sleep upstairs.

The dog's sudden barking made him grimace and he called out, in a loud whisper, "Keep it down for heaven's sake."

The watchdog didn't even turn to his voice as he quickly disappeared into the warren of metal in chase of rabbit he had no chance in ever catching. With the dog gone Sam parked himself on top of a hood of a burnt out car content to wile away his hour of freedom, drinking in the warmth of the sun on his skin.

Closing his eyes he sat still trying to clear his head of a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions trying to resurface. Only the binding voice of his brother whispering up an exclamation in his head offered up any reality behind them. Not that he really wanted any ownership of a time that left him so crazy that flying solo off a roof had seemed like a good option.

Taking another slow sip of his beer he let out a long sigh. As much he appreciated Bobby and all that he had done the need to reassert his independence burnt deep inside him. It really was time to convince Dean that this is what they needed to do next. Find them their next hunt to take them back on the road again.

A nudge to his leg drew him out of his inner thoughts and he caught Rummy looking expectantly up at him and he knew what he was after. Dimples flashed briefly before he cupped his left hand and poured some of the beer into to let the dog slurp it up.

When the beer was all gone he wiped the sticky palm of his hand down his leg and winked conspiratorially at the dog, "You know we are both going to be so busted if _they_ ever find out."

Rummy wuffed hopefully back at him for more beer but Sam shook his head, draining the last of the beer with a long gulp. Disposing of the evidence he dropped the empty bottle inside the burnt out wreck and stood up again noting how the sun was starting to dip in the sky. "We should head back before the search party comes a-hunting."

By the time he climbed back up to the bedroom window dusk was falling. As he looped a leg over the window sill and stepped back into the dimly lit room he paused sensing someone else in the room with him. "Dean?" he asked certain of the presence as his skin tingled in recognition.

"The one and only," growled back Dean flicking on the light and watching Sam blink owlishly at the sudden illumination. To say that he had wanted to go into rant mode at finding his brother gone a few minutes back would have been an understatement but with his reappearance and Sam's bright smile that followed all his fears instantly dispersed.

Sam for his part dissolved into a fit of giggles onto the opposite bed, "Oh man your face. I think I just got busted!"

Trying to fight down his own wide grin of delight Dean mustered back a scowl, his voice deliberately gruff. "Well it looks like your ready to get out of here on a more permanent basis. Think you up to handling a job Ellen has sniffed out for us?"

"What do you think?" sniggered back Sam, his dimples flashing long and deep.

Dean caved in and grinned back waving a bundle of dollar notes at him, his spoils from the 'friendly' poker game that had left the two other men with empty pockets, "Good cos' I don't think we're exactly welcome at Casa Singer at the moment. You best be packed and ready to go in five."

A soft chuckle came from Sam as he pulled his duffle bag from under his bed already packed, "I've been ready to go since I got back from County. The only thing I need to grab is my toothbrush. I'll go down and smooth the path for your retreat with the boys…."

Watching Sam fling his duffle over his shoulder Dean's stomach did a little flip-flop of anxiety. No matter what had come their way this past year his brother still had an air of innocence that kept him apart from the dark world they hunted in and he wondered just for how much longer he could keep that, before someone or something came and stripped it off him.

Dad's final words rung hollow in his ears and again he refused to believe them or give them voice. Like Joshua had said what you didn't know couldn't hurt you. And the last thing he wanted to do on this earth was hurt his brother again. Silence sometimes was truly golden.

**The End.**


End file.
